Swarm Saga
by Elenek
Summary: What happens when who you are gets challenged by who you were born to be?
1. Of Fists and Ki

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am nothing. I am writing this simply for my own pleasure and am not making any money from it. Dragonball Z and its characters are the property of Akira Toriyama and other various and associated peoples. I would like to say thank you to my lovely beta reader, CLeighM, who practices martial arts and helps me keep my fight scenes fun.

"The time has come," the Walrus said.

"To talk of many things.

Of shoes and ships and sealing wax,

Of cabbages and kings,

And why the sea is boiling hot,

And whether pigs have wings."

Lewis Carroll – Through the Looking Glass

Chapter 1: Of Fists and Ki

Marron was alone and it was her father's fault. She understood of course. He wanted her to be able to put on a good show without having to compare herself to the others. Yes, she understood, but it was of little solace right now.

Instead of trying to talk to anyone, she found herself sitting against the wall trying to play with her hair. Unfortunately, her mother had insisted that it be braided out of the way and the ends tucked under for safety. She thought about taking her hair out of the braids simply so she would have something to do then quickly discard the thought. She'd never be able to put it back.

Marron assumed that after the draw the tournament would start. Instead, the contestants had been left in this sweltering room for an eternity. How long could they possibly make everyone wait? She looked at the other 15 combatants: 14 men and 1 woman. The men joked loudly amongst themselves, flexing their muscles and trying to intimidate each other. The only one that had tried to intimidate her was her opponent for the first round, a large ugly man by the name of Grendel. The others didn't seem to bother; probably just assumed that she wouldn't make it past the first round although four of them had hit on Marron already. She managed to brush them off with her mother's patented look of complete disinterest. The other girl in the room sat quietly in an opposite corner. Marron watched as one of the men approached the girl. He spoke at her, his hands on his hips and his chest out. He must be her first opponent, Marron thought. The girl's eyes expanded to take up half her face as the color drained and she began to tremble a little. The guy, sensing his intimidation was successful began to strut off only to fall on his face. He stood up, quickly looking around to see who saw. The girl's color returned to normal and a repressed smile played upon her features. Marron hadn't seen it, so she couldn't be sure, but somehow she knew that the girl had tripped him.

She was about to start playing mental games of Tic Tac Toe with herself when the crowd cheered and the announcer could be heard outside. Finally!

As the first two combatants walked out, the other fighters gathered around the arena entrance jockeying for a good viewing position. Unfortunately, there was only so much space for 14 fighters to look through on either side of the dividing wall. Marron, deciding not to join in the pushing contest, jumped onto the wall's top then sat down. She watched as the only other girl roughly climbed up the back of another fighter to sit comfortably down next to her.

"They tried to push you back too huh?"

"They would not have for long. I just decided your way was easier." That little repressed smile reappeared as the girl looked at Marron and then back out at the ring.

Marron studied the girl for a moment and almost felt sorry for her. She appeared to be Marron's own age if not a little older. Her hair, like Marron's, was put up but hers was tied in intricate knots that ended in a series of unusual spikes. She was fairly muscular as well, more so than most women. She had very little chest to speak of, probably due to the physical conditioning needed for those muscles. Either that or the almost corset like wrap she had tied around her otherwise loose fitting red gi top. She wasn't ugly; might even be somewhat pretty if she ever tried. She was just … butch. Marron hated the word; but at the time it was the only apt description.

Marron looked back at the ring as the first fight finally seemed to be winding down. She hoped the entire tournament wasn't like this. That would be excessively boring. The second fight was announced and proceeded much the same as the first: No ki blasts, no flying, not even good Martial Arts.

Marron jumped down off the wall as they announced her appearance in the third fight. As she walked into the arena she looked up to the private box her family was supposed to be in. Sure enough, there were Pan and Bra making faces against the glass. Her dad's ki rose so that she knew he'd be cheering for her. She even felt the low fluttering of her mother's energy. She waved up at the box and then faced her opponent. Grendel looked down on her and said, "Don't worry little girl, I'll make this quick."

The wall separating the audience from the fighters cracked sending out small clouds of dust as Grendel impacted.

Marron jumped back onto her perch after her win was announced. She felt heady, couldn't help but laugh and had to bite her bottom lip to stop it from pouring forth. She had done it. She had faced her first opponent and won. Granted, he wasn't much of an opponent but she still walked away victorious. 'He was right, that was quick.'

The other girl looked at her. Monotonely she said, "Interesting technique."

"Thank you. By the way I'm Marron."

"So I gathered from the announcer." She never took her eyes off the ring. "Seloli."

"I haven't seen you compete in one of these before. Is this your first tournament?"

"It is the first time I have been in this one. You might want to watch this fight you know. That brunette is going to be your next opponent."

Marron began to watch the fighters in the ring. Sure enough, the dark haired one was doing really well. He was even using ki to back up his attacks. How had she not felt this earlier? As she began to fidget, she wondered who taught the man. All of the Earth's known ki masters were in the extended family known as the Z senschi and, thanks to her father's interference; none of them were entering today. He moved with an effortless grace that did not resemble anyone else. He circled around his opponent managing to dodge and block every attack thrown his way. Eventually, he landed a solid kick knocking his opponent unconscious and causing a chain reaction of ki flares from the private box that Bulma had rented for the day.

The next two fights passed as expected, without incident. Seloli remained all business. She watched each fight only speaking to discuss or comment on style and technique. She sprang off the wall when she was announced for the seventh fight. "Good luck." Marron called. "Not that you'd need it. You could always just trip him again."

"I do not know what you are talking about."

"Earlier, when he tried to intimidate you, I saw you trip him as he walked off."

"You are wrong. I did not trip him," Seloli responded as she walked toward the ring.

Marron just grumbled as she watched the girl go. "Yeah right and I'm a super saiyan."

Seloli stopped and gave Marron a hard stare before turning quickly back around to scan the audience as she climbed the steps onto the fighting platform. When she faced her opponent, that odd smile was back in place. Although seemingly effortless, the fight was slow. The man seemed to taunt the other girl as he attacked. His blows were usually deflected and those that were not landed with a minimum of force, only pushing the girl back twice. It appeared, however, that Seloli was not the easy match her opponent was planning on as her punches always contacted with an efficient and unerring accuracy. Marron found herself fidgeting again. No ki was being used, but there was no doubt which was the more experienced fighter in the ring. She felt the low rise of ki from the women in the private box. At least someone was enjoying the fight. Videl's ki spiked when Seloli took a kick to the gut that sent her flying backward. She landed and rolled, regaining her feet. Her smile spread across her face into a large grin as she went on the offensive with a series of blows that slowly pushed her opponent back and off the edge of the platform his arms flailing as he touched the grass.

Marron watched as Seloli walked back, jumped to grab the wall, and hoisted herself back up top using a movement similar to getting out of a pool. Marron kept quiet as they watched the next fight knowing that any comments would not be appreciated until the other girl knew who her opponent would be for the next round. As the first round came to a close, Marron climbed down off the wall and tried for conversation again. "That was a really good fight? How long have you been training?"

"My entire life. And the fight was good I suppose."

"You don't sound too excited about it."

"I am actually disappointed. I caught a few old broadcasts of this tournament and was looking forward to a higher caliber of fighter. As it is, the only decent fight I will get, is with you in the finals." With that said, Seloli walked off, her boots thudding across the concrete. Yes, Marron was going to kill her dad. Well, she had thirty minutes before the start of the next round. No time like the present.

---

As Marron walked into the box, she was attacked by two demon twelve year olds screaming her name. She grabbed both girls in a headlock, one under each arm, black and blue hair spilling downward, and rocked them back and forth. "Hey, Chibis. Are you guys having fun up here?"

"No," The darker of the two, Pan, dragged out. "Watching fights is boring."

"Trust me kid; today, it's not much more fun fighting in them. I'm bored, there is no one to talk to, and my opponents are too easy." The last part was directed at her father with a subtle lift of her eyebrow.

Goku spoke up from behind the bowl of noodles he was eating. "I'd wait until after your next fight, with that guy Rentz, until you start saying things like that. He kind of reminds me of Yamcha in our first tournament." The dark haired, scar faced ball player started and looked at Goku as if to figure out if that was a compliment or an insult.

"How about that other girl," Videl asked. "She had a really good fight too. I saw you on the wall with her. What's she like?"

"I don't know much; she's not very talkative. Although, she is mad that none of you entered."

Her father's eyebrows rose towards his hairline. "Us?" He glanced around the rest of the room to see similar expressions of confusion on the faces of all but Vegeta and Piccolo. "Why would she want us in the tournament?"

The blond entrants face scrunched up and she waved her hands in front of her wildly. "Oh, not you specifically. I think it had more to do with the style of fighting. Something about old tournament footage."

The purple haired man sprawled out over one of the cushy chairs gave a rather inelegant snort. "She wouldn't have lasted long."

Piccolo stopped pretending to ignore the conversation. "Don't be to sure about that."

When the questioning glances produced no explanation, Vegeta sighed and stated, "Her ki is too low." As if that answered anything. How could someone's ki be too low anyway?

---

Rentz slid across the ring. He managed to stop just inside the edge before launching himself at Marron. He began with a punch which changed to a roundhouse kick then an elbow to the ribs landing with a soft thud. His ki fluctuated wildly allowing Marron to realize that, although he used his inner energy, it was instinctual and he probably did not even know he was using it. No wonder Goku thought he resembled Yamcha. She felt the kis from the audience cheering her on including a particular bright clear one. 'He noticed.' She wrapped that Ki around her like a blanket and looked at Rentz. There was no way she was letting him win now. She blocked his last attack and turned the onus back to herself and finishing the fight.

"You look way too pleased with that fight." Seloli was leaning against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest.

Marron beamed. "He noticed."

"He?" Seloli raised an eyebrow.

Marron looked down and then back up into the other girl's black eyes. Nothing was going to ruin her mood. "There is a guy in the audience I've been trying to impress; trying to get him to notice me as more than just some blonde."

"By fighting?"

Her sarcasm bothered Marron. "Well… yeah. He's also a fighter, a very strong one, and I've always been some weak little fashion plate." She shrugged. "Now I get to show him otherwise."

"You probably do not want this but I will give it to you anyway. A word of advice; if all he is interested in is your power level, he is not worth your time."

Seloli was right. Marron most certainly did not want her advice.

Seloli stepped into the ring for her third fight of the day. Her opponent was being loud and obnoxious which did not surprise Marron. Both women had come to expect loud arrogance from their opponents. Seloli just rolled her eyes not bothering to fall into a stance. The man rushed toward her, his fist raised. She caught his fist and threw him. As he landed on the grass, she turned to Marron. "We do not really need that thirty minute break, do we?"

Marron swallowed and shook her head as she walked forward. 'She just threw him. Her other two fights were rather dragged out affairs. Oh Kami, she was toying with them. Her ki is too low Vegeta said. Her ki is too low.' Marron now understood what Piccolo meant; this would not be an easy fight. The announcer realized that his finalists were not going to wait and began espousing the skill of both fighters and the rarity of finding two female combatants in the finals. Seloli ignored him and assessed Marron. "Do you really think that this guy is worth your time?"

Marron's smile lit up her face as she glanced at the family box. She squared her shoulders and faced her opponent. "Yes… he is."

Seloli sighed. Closing her eyes she dropped her head shaking it. "You remind me of my sister." When she looked back up, she slid into a fighting stance. "Let us see what we can do to impress this guy shall we?"

The daughter of Kuririn and Eighteen sunk into stance and watched Seloli. The other girl's stance seemed more polished, on center, and more natural than the one she had used in her other fights. They stared at each other for a while before the darker girl closed in and aimed a kick to the stomach. Marron successfully blocked the kick by grabbing the offending foot and turning it, dropping the other girl to the ground. She was thrown off balance as the other foot swept her feet. Both of them rolled apart and regained their stance. "I really wish your fights had been longer." Caught a little off guard by the statement, the fairer girl could only watch as the punch entered her personal space. Instinct told her where the punch was directed and how to block it.

"I guess I was lucky yours were." Marron then went on the offensive. The rest of the fight was a blur of motion. Yet it seemed so slow. Marron always wondered what her father meant when he told her to find her zone. Now she knew. Her ki rippled out in waves keeping track of the movement around her but her concentration was on the current engagement. Nothing aside from her and her opponent existed. A dodge, a punch, a kick, a leap. The onus changed throughout the fight as the two moved around the stadium. Man this was fun. As a unit they moved to the edge of the platform. Now all she had to do was get their positions reversed and… She almost did not see the kick meant to take out her feet and send her to the grass.

Marron barely avoided the last attack by lifting up in to the air. As she hovered above Seloli the other girl looked up looked up at her and smiled. She then lifted up into the air, even with Marron, to deliver a punch to the gut. Marron caught her breath and moved out of range. She cleared her mind and focused (her father wasn't the only parent she had been training with.) Marron concentrated on the other girl's form looking for the hole. Seloli shot forward delivering a series of punches and kicks. Marron continued to block until she found the small gap she had waited for. She grit her teeth and delivered the kick that sent her opponent rocketing toward the arena platform. Before her opponent could recover, Marron lifted her hand above her head and created a flattened disk of ki. She sent it flying just as Seloli touched down and stood. Her opponent was forced backward as she blocked the destructo disk. 'Oh no, this is not good.' It wasn't the strongest attack she'd ever thrown, she didn't want to kill the other girl, but it was not supposed to be blocked. When the attack dissipated, Seloli flew into the air above Marron. "Why did you not just say you wanted to play with ki," she asked before bringing both hands in front of her and releasing a beam of her own. She followed the beam in and, as Marron knocked it aside, delivered a boot to the blond girl's middle. Marron caught herself before she hit the audience. She looked at the darker girl and brought her hands together in front of her.

"Ka

me

ha

me

HA."

Seloli took the hit head on. When the smoke cleared, she hung in the air. Her gi top and sash were in tatters but she was smiling. "That was … the most … beautiful beam cannon … I have ever seen." She looked down at herself. "Your man should be suitably impressed. Unfortunately," she ripped off the remainder of the sash around her torso, "This means that I will be ending this now." Seloli shrugged out of the gi letting it flutter to the ground. Underneath, she wore a black body suit and a narrow belt. A belt which unwrapped itself, stretched out to its full length, and resettled tightly around her right leg.

TBC

A/N: In accordance with this site's policies on Review Responses, all previous responses have been removed and future responses will no longer be placed at the end of the chapters.

Thank you for reading my humble fic. –El-


	2. Of Phobias

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am nothing. I am writing this simply for my own pleasure and am not making any money from it. Dragonball Z and its characters are the property of Akira Toriyama and other various and associated peoples. Beta kudos to CLeighM.

Chapter 2:

The box exploded as chairs hit the ground and tables were upturned. The glass gave out from the force of so many kis skyrocketing. It rained down upon the exposed audience below; not that anyone in the box noticed. For three seconds all that could be heard was the sound of heavy breathing before the questions began to fly. "She's a Saiyan?" "This isn't possible" "Who is she?" "How did she get here?" "Where did she come from?" "Which one of you two is responsible for her?" "I thought Goku and Vegeta were the only two left?" "She can't be a saiyan. How is this possible?"

Vegeta didn't know but he was damn sure going to find out. He really was getting a little annoyed with Saiyans just appearing out of nowhere. It was bad enough when he found Raditz, then discovered Kakarrot was alive. Then his son appeared from the future to warn them about the androids, that at least had a reasonable explanation, but he knew instinctively that this girl had not pulled a similar trick. She should not be here. He and Kakarrot were in fact the last two living Saiyans. Damn it, they had looked for others, carefully! They had traced any rumors. All they ever found were bodies and supposition. How could they have missed any? After all, this child was no where near old enough to survive Vegetasei. Like his own children, she was born afterwards. Which meant she had parents, plural, TWO, at least.

Eighteen went very still. Her daughter was an up and coming fashion designer with a childish crush on the purple haired demi. She was not supposed to be the hero in any scenario. She had only been seriously training for the past two years. The android turned on her husband waving her index finger in front of his face. "I only agreed because you promised me that THIS," her finger then gestured toward the two girls hovering in the air, "was not going to happen. When she entered this tournament, that was not supposed to happen."

Kuririn froze in the face of his wife's wrath, visibly sweating. She was no longer the vision of icy blond perfection. Her coloring had gone from flawless pale to a blotchy red and her hair was wild about her face. He never liked the idea that his daughter might end up fighting a Saiyan. For that reason alone, he worked hard to keep everyone he knew out of this tournament. Marron should judge her strength against other humans and not powered up aliens from outer space. Instead, his sweet little girl was flying in the air facing off against a creature that was probably here to destroy the world. All the others had. Hell, even Goku had been sent to Earth for just that purpose. This train of thought, however, would not please his wife. "Sweetie, she was doing fine up until this point. Everything will be OK. It's not as if the girl is a super Saiyan."

Vegeta growled. She had better not be. Unfortunately, or fortunately depending on how one saw it, she did not need to be. Thanks to that Kamehameha wave, the saiyan girl now knew the extent of Marron's power and had even raised her ki to a level above it. At this point, the girl's ki registered as a second class fighter. Vegeta caught himself wondering who taught her. SHIT! "Everyone, lower your levels now or we'll show up on scouters and I don't want anyone getting an accurate count." He began spreading his senses outward.

"There's more?" Vegeta heard the question but made no note as to who asked it. It didn't really matter anyway.

"Yes. Where there is one low class fighter her age there are usually more." He managed to find four other kis moving in their direction which meant it was a standard team of five. Three of them were second class and the fourth was a first class which meant the girl on the field was second class, rare, but possible. The first class fighter would be the leader. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. His head hurt from trying to remember all of the intricacies of the Saiyan Military. Freeza's order was simple; there were no low class fighters. He guessed that Seloli was a scout, someone to precede the rest of the team and get a feel for the strength of the planet's denizens. The others, however, were moving extremely slow. They would not arrive for at least another forty minutes. Well, just let them come and try something. Kakarrot's face darkened and he nodded. Good. Vegeta let his senses ease and returned most of his attention back to the fight in front of him.

Seloli had taken advantage of Marron's shock to launch a series of attacks that had the blond bouncing around the stadium before rocketing towards the arena floor. Marron managed to flip over in mid flight and launch one of her mother's attacks at her airborne opponent. The older Saiyan threw her own ki blast to counter and both exploded in mid air as they met. When the smoke cleared, Marron stood in the crater her body had caused and Seloli hovered in the air wiping blood off her mouth. She saluted Marron before charging downward. The younger girl dodged just before Seloli reached her; rocketing into the air. The Saiyan touched down and followed her opponent into the air where they exchanged blows while trying to recover some of their spent energy.

After a few more exchanges, Marron backed off and began to gather her energy. "Ka me" BOOM! Marron found herself lying in rubble with Seloli standing a few feet away.

"I said it was pretty but it takes to long to put it together. And I do not believe I ever said anything about letting you throw it again."

'So the Saiyan wants to discuss weaknesses huh?' Marron watched the brown furry tip of Seloli's tail curl and uncurl around the top of her calf. Her father had explained to her how he had once grabbed Goku's tail in their second tournament to try for an advantage. 'I'll show her a weakness.' Marron hammered forward driving her shoulder solidly into her opponent's stomach. As the girl doubled over, Marron slid her hand down the leg. Just as her fingers touched the soft fur she was thrown like a rag into the arena wall. She groaned from inside the girl shaped indent her body caused. When she opened her eyes, she saw the ki blast coming in her direction. She did not have time to block it.

Seloli pulled back on her attack at the last minute. 'Krito, can't kill it.' Her brain barely registered the tall man who appeared out of nowhere in front of her opponet. Her leg gave out because her most vulnerable appendage had tightened down enough to cut off circulation. She pushed her ki under her to hover a little and started heading for the blonde.

The man suddenly turned around. "Don't you think you've done enough," he said.

She was then yanked back to stare into the cold, blue eyes of another woman. Then she felt herself flying into the opposite wall and heard the familiar snap as two ribs and maybe even her arm broke. She closed her eyes as her entire right torso exploded in pain. Though her lungs were protesting, Seloli tried not to breathe hard as she crawled out of the hole one handed. When she opened her eyes, the unwavering black glare of a short, flame haired man drilled into her. He was Saiyan? He did not have a tail but it was obvious. Even worse, he looked less than happy to see her there. Who was he? She looked away from his intent stare. Across the field of audience members, who had charged onto the field at the end of the fight, Marron walked shakily. Good, she wasn't disqualified. A number of people pushed their way around her and men in white coats tried to lead her to the main building. However, a short brown haired man and a blond woman, who Seloli half recognized as the one who caused her own current state of pain, led Marron in the opposite direction.

A large number of the planet's sentient species gathered around Seloli trying to congratulate her and pick her up. She tried to get away, pushing at them with her ki. The last time a crowd decided to 'celebrate' her victory she ended up with a very painful desecration on her back. She growled as more than one human slapped her damaged ribs and caused a twinge in her broken arm. The medical team finally found their way over to her and pushed the crowd away. After the initial assessment, they led her back to the main building's medical suite where her arm was set and her ribs bound. She'd pray to all seven gods if it would just get her a regen tank. Afterwards, they walked Seloli to the dressing room she had left her bags in, to retrieve them, then to a private room where she could shower and change before the award ceremony.

Once alone, Seloli pulled out her duffel and began to search its contents. She retrieved the thin metal and glass scouter which she affixed over her ear. She began scanning the area looking for the woman who threw her and that man. She needed to confirm her earlier suspicions and begin to formulate a report. Why did this have to happen while she was on leave? The machine let out a series of beeps as it landed solid hits on detectable levels. What she found were the last four power signatures she wanted to see at the moment. "_Krito! What are they doing here,_" she muttered to herself.

Vegeta was about to follow the medical team when he felt the hand on his shoulder. "The others are here," Goku said. He motioned towards the four grouped near the audience dividing wall. Kami, all four of them were Saiyans. He did not understand it. Where the hell had they all come from?

The leader scanned the surroundings. She touched what could only be a scouter on the side of her face. The device was smaller, lighter than what Vegeta was used to. He pushed his ki down further to avoid detection and felt Kakarrot do the same. Her gaze passed over them, too interested in the numbers that danced across the screen over her eye to take in their appearance. She tapped the scouter again and its screen flipped back, away from her face. She turned and addressed her cronies. "_She's dropped her power level again. Spread out. Just judging by the ring I'd check the medical ward or the holding cells first. Let me know when you find her. There's a bonus to the first of you who does. And I shouldn't need to remind any of you to keep a low profile._" With that, she stormed off towards the main building.

"What did she just say," Goku asked.

Vegeta was ready to snap, 'You have ears. Figure it out for yourself,' when he realized that the leader spoke in Saiyago. He fisted his hands and counted to ten, exasperated. He stood next to the most powerful Saiyan in the universe and the damn fool couldn't even understand his own language. "She said, Kakarrot, that they are splitting up to look for the other girl." The prince wanted to follow the leader, he still didn't quite understand everything, but something niggled in the back of his memory. He pushed the thoughts aside and followed the woman's ki trail.

Goku looked around for the boys. Gohan glared at the soldiers as they moved towards the building. His breathing became hard, his ki rising, as he began moving to follow one of the men. The full Saiyan ran over to his oldest son and stopped him. Gohan needed to convince his father-in-law to help clear the area. If the Saiyans decided to begin causing mayhem, best not to have all these people around. He then found Trunks and Goten having them follow two of the others at a discrete distance. Better for them to do the following instead of Gohan, they had not had the experience of being kidnapped repeatedly as a child. He took the last member himself and followed him into the building hoping the fighter had let his guard slip enough to not notice. He was a little surprised that Vegeta had not just blasted all five of them on site. No one trusted their sudden appearance. He supposed Vegeta really was mellowing in his old age.

He followed the younger saiyan as he stomped from room to room mumbling under his breath. He could hear the static over the communicator attached to the other's ear. Suddenly, his charge stopped checking rooms and made a beeline for an upper floor.

As he reached the top he saw the other three followers step out of an empty room. Goten just pointed at the door indicating that the other band of Saiyans had congregated inside a room at the far end of the hall. Goku walked towards the dressing area behind Vegeta, Trunks and Goten behind them. Beyond the door, two feminine voices rose.

Vegeta slowed his small processional wanting to hear the conversation. It wasn't hard; they really weren't keeping their voices down. "_Do you have any idea what you did by coming here? When I realized where you were headed … I should beat you right now._" Interesting.

"_I entered a tournament. I don't see what is so wrong with that. What does it matter to you anyway? Last time I checked I was given a months leave. A leave I'm only seven days into. And, by the way, I don't have to tell you where I'm going._"

"_When you go to a blacklisted planet you do. You put us all in danger." _Earth was blacklisted? When did that that happen?

"_This planet is not even listed in the databanks. Somehow I doubt that it's blacklisted. I would have found that out in my research. Besides, the average power level here is 5. In that tournament, there was only one person worth fighting, and she was so green that if you stuck her in the ground she'd grow._"

"_And yet, somebody had to train her. Have you forgotten about that?_" With the force Seloli hit that wall? Vegeta doubted it.

"_No Commander Aspa, I haven't forgotten that but they would have shown up on my scouter if they had a power level I couldn't handle._"

Vegeta froze. The memory that had been bothering him since he had first seen the saiyan commander came screaming to the front of his brain. He felt his blood pool in his feet as one word, one thought, played continuously through his conscience. Bulma. He stopped so suddenly Goku ran into his back. He looked from Goku to Trunks. He had to get out of here. He had to protect her.

He turned around to leave, the hand on his shoulder once again halting his progress. "Hey are you ok, Vegeta?"

The Saiyan prince just looked at the taller man in front of him and then switched between the two younger men who looked at him curiously. "Trunks, go stay with your mother. Make sure she stays safe."

Trunks took two steps backward and regarded his father. He opened his mouth to protest when he stopped and sniffed the air. His jaw shut with a snap. Straightening to his full height, he turned and grabbed his best friend's arm. "Come on Goten."

When the boys were out of earshot, the older saiyan turned to his companion. "What ever happens in that room, Kakarrot, don't act surprised. Do you remember your power level when Raditz first arrived here?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you duplicate it?" The Saiyan prince felt the other's power swell to a pathetically low level. "You killed your brother with THAT?"

"I did have help. Actually, all I did was hold him down. Piccolo did the killing."

"Whatever." Vegeta closed his eyes and raised his hand to tap the taller man's chest. "Just keep your power level there."

Male laughter filled the corridor. "_You entered forbidden space gardak. This territory is Freeza's. If one of his men finds out what you are we're all in danger._" Freeza? What did that bastard lizard have to do with anything? Shit. Vegeta had missed most of the conversation.

"_And this means that I can finally get rid of you._"

"_After all the work to get me on your team?_ _How are you planning on doing that commander?_" Seloli sounded smug. Then again, she was a second class female; the bitch couldn't just kill her without repercussions.

"_Well, you wanted to come to this planet so badly. I've decided that you can stay here. Garvolt, grab her ship's remote and her scouter. We can't have anyone tracing us now can we? _"

TBC

Reviews Appreciated.


	3. Of White Lies

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am nothing. I am writing this simply for my own pleasure and am not making any money from it. Dragonball Z and its characters are the property of Akira Toriyama and other various and associated peoples. Beta kudos to CLeighM.

Chapter 3

"_Over my dead body_." Vegeta blasted the door and stormed into the room as it splintered apart. He stopped caring who the bitch was. "_There is no way that you are going to leave your problems on this planet. I am NOT some damn babysitter_." He stood there breathing in and out hard. How dare the bitch think that she could dump the girl on his planet? He did not just spend half his life protecting this mudball only to have some queen bitch from outer space strand a saiyan here who was probably just going to try to blow the place up anyway. It certainly wasn't in him to just stand there and let that happen. Vegeta had a height that was less than formidable but he had a glare that could etch glass. He turned that glare on the quartet's leader. Bitch.

The fighters in the room stood and stared at the short man who blasted his way in. Somehow, they instinctively understood that moving against the small man would only bring death. They stared again as a taller man followed the newcomer into the room. He stood behind the shorter one, fisted his hands at his side, and managed to look only slightly less irate.

Goku studied the occupants of the room. When they first arrived, there was too much happening outside to get a good look at them. What he was struck most by was their youth. Only the woman who did the majority of the talking seemed to have any years on her. He guessed that she was about the same age as Vegeta and himself. She was tall and pretty. Her hair was gathered at the base of her neck and cascaded down to her waist. She wore her armor with a strange regal authority and her tail was curled expertly around her waist. Her eyes, though, were flat; as if she was disappointed with the life she had been given and felt she deserved better. The others, however, well … the oldest was not even Gohan's age. They were large and built with black, spiky hair and alert, assessing eyes. Yet, they sat there simply gauging Vegeta and himself. They did not move but were prepared to at the snap of the woman's fingers. Even though his boys had been trained, and far outstripped these three for power, they never walked around with that same ferocity, that same sense of feral readiness. It unnerved Goku. Had he and Vegeta ever really been that way? That young? That stupid?

He had to admit he agreed with Vegeta. They could not just dump the girl on this planet. She had pulled back that last attack on Marron, but that certainly did not mean that he was comfortable with the idea. He studied the girl. She looked about ready to explode. Her entire body shook and she had to clench her jaw just to keep it from clicking. The skin covering her face changed color as the blood rushed to the surface. She looked up and met Goku's gaze before dropping her eyes to the floor, her mouth working but no sound came out.

"_Exactly what do you think you're doing …?_" The woman Goku assumed was the leader spoke up, her voice trailing off as she got her first good look at the two of them. She squared her shoulders and glared (or tried to at least, she backed down when she realized that Vegeta's glare was much more effective than hers) at the two. "_Who are you?_"

Vegeta just smirked. He had seen her back down from the weight of his stare. She stood there, a seemingly perfect picture of beautiful fury, her eyes glittered with annoyance, the muscles in her shoulders and thighs bunched and relaxed as she watched him. The silky tail around her waist fluffed out and smoothed as the tip twitched. She really had grown to be quite beautiful, and tall. He would love to tell her exactly who he was. He would love to watch her onyx eyes light up in fear as she tried to make sense of his existence. He would love to watch the others scrape, and bow, and stutter, if any of them were old enough to realize who stood in front of them that is. But he couldn't afford it. The Bitch was a first class Saiyan female. Therefore, she was a politician as well as a warrior. Even if the bitch wasn't bred to be one, she would have learned. To be anything else would have cost her; her status, her power, her control over her entire life. Yes, he would get her fear and maybe even her respect, but both of those emotions would be replaced by the cold calculation in her eyes as she tried to figure out how to use him to her advantage.

There was also more than just himself to consider. No, Vegeta couldn't risk it. He had a mate and two children who he loved more than breathing. He had died protecting them once already. He was not going to give this bitch the opportunity to try to take that away; and she would try. Vegeta would be much too precious a pawn in this woman's bid for power. He thought about remaining quiet but decided not to tempt the fates. Besides, one white lie was nothing. "_My name is Raditz. The man behind me is my brother Kakarrot. Now, tell me who you are, and where you came from._"

Vegeta could almost feel the questions pouring from Kakarrot's brain. He also felt the lazy, relaxed tension that the larger saiyan adopted when waiting for a fight to start and knew that none of his confusion would be betrayed by his body language or smell. 'Later,' he promised himself. 'I'll explain it all to him later.'

"_My name is Aspa. The rest of these are my men._" As she made the introductions a faint beep was heard from the scouter that one of them had in his hands. The boy glanced down at its screen and then glanced at his commander. He tapped his fingers against his leg twice. The first tap was just the index finger and the second tap included three fingers. As if Vegeta really wouldn't notice that. Aspa noticed though. At the first tap her eyes widened a little. At he second, her eyes softened, her shoulders relaxed, and a really annoying smug smile played on her face. She turned and faced Vegeta ignoring Kakarrot completely. So, she was stupid as well. She really should have been old enough to realize never to underestimate her opponent. "_It's actually lucky we found you. Seloli is staying here as punishment. You can take her place_."

The bitch actually thought she was going to order him around? "_No thank you. Kakarrot has become … attached to this planet and has no wish to leave_."

"_I wasn't ordering him; just you_."

"_Woman, I was an officer in the Saiyan Army and again under Freeza. I do NOT take orders from you_."

"_No you tailless freak._" She walked up to him bristling and got in his face. He had her mad now. "_You take orders from the tyrant who tried to destroy the Saiyan race? Have you no pride?_"

Vegeta growled. He'd rather have backhanded her to the floor. Even holding steady at Raditz' former power level he was still stronger than her. One of her men stepped forward to assist her, and then backed off as he thought better of getting between the two first class in the room. He felt another power up. Weakling. He flashed his best evil smirk at both of them and crossed his arms over his chest. "_Freeza, and his father, died over three moons ago; and they did so at a Saiyan prince's hand. So, you see, the girl did nothing wrong. If anything you should be proud she won. Our tournaments are not easy. Take the child with you as you leave_." Vegeta couldn't stop himself. He felt the need to brag about his son, his heritage. He'd crow his pride to the entire universe if he could. Unfortunately, he watched as the bitch processed the only piece of political information in his statement and ignored his invitation to leave. SHIT! It really wasn't like him to make mistakes like that. He had to catch his heart rate and his breathing before his own body began to betray his anxiety. His time on Earth really was softening him.

"_Vegeta is alive? Take me to him._" How dare this bitch use his name so informally? He did not care if she felt that she had a right to. The fighters in the room stilled. They looked from their commander to the darkened face of the first class soldier that stood before them blocking the room's only exit, the soldier who obviously served under the command of Saiyan royalty. Suddenly, this assignment was more dangerous than any of them had bargained for.

"_The Prince died fighting Frieza. I had the honor of burying him_." Vegeta almost did not recognize the voice behind him. It was deeper when speaking its native tongue. Yet it flowed from Kakarrot's mouth haltingly, and with a thick accent as vocal cords tried to make sounds they had never before made. It was music to Vegeta's ears. He did not want to question Kakarrot's ability to speak Saiyago much less understand it. It just felt good knowing he could, right somehow.

Odd. He had never been proud of his rival before. When they had entered the room, he was actually afraid of what the baka would do. The prince wasn't sure that it was in the other's moral fiber to allow him to tell blatant lies. Yet here he was, the savior of the Earth, supporting one; wording the truth in such a way as to allow the others to form erroneous conclusions.

The bitch's face fell, loosing the predatory gleam, and he felt the relief wash over him that he hadn't told her. Bitch. She looked between the two brothers. The other men in the room sighed and then smirked at Goku's poor grasp of the Saiyan language, their superiority reaffirmed. Vegeta wanted to laugh at their arrogance. He shoved down the sudden need to transform, allowing that outward manifestation of power to put them back into their place. Living with Freeza had taught him to keep his thoughts and secrets closely guarded if nothing else. He looked at the bitch and raised an eyebrow as if daring her to challenge Kakarrot. She wanted to. He could tell. After all, why would the Saiyan no Ouji have anything to do with a lowly third class?

The first class woman studied him, trying to figure out how far she could push him. She was losing face in front of her team and Vegeta knew it. She could not order him to do anything. Nor could she beat him into submission, he was stronger. He recrossed his hands over his chest and smirked. He almost wished he had his tail back so he could happily wave it in front of her face. He was enjoying himself immensely. She turned to the boy holding the scouter and another small box. "_Do you have everything?_"

"_Yes Ma'am._"

"_Good. We're leaving._" She turned back to Vegeta. "_Move._"

"Raditz," Vegeta felt Kakarrot's hand on his shoulder. "Let them go. If the girl tries anything you or I will stop it." There was an "hmph" from the problem in the corner. Aspa turned her glare onto Kakarrot. Obviously, she didn't like him speaking a language she didn't understand. Well, she'd just have to deal with it.

"Fine," he growled. He stepped out of the way of the door and raised an eyebrow at the bitch. The four shuffled out smirking at Vegeta and Goku as they left.

"_When we get back to Kudaka your existence and your actions will be reported. I'm sure someone will be out to deal with you._"

Vegeta ignored her. Someone else would watch them to make sure they left the planet without incident. He looked back at the girl who caused all of this. She stood quietly in the corner cradling her broken arm and fuming. When he caught her eye she snarled. What the hell was she so mad about? He was trying to get her sent home. There was something more going on here. Of course, she was a second class; politics again. He was too out of practice for this.

TBC

Reviews Appreciated


	4. Of Things Best Left Unspoken

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am nothing. I am writing this simply for my own pleasure and am not making any money from it. Dragonball Z and its characters are the property of Akira Toriyama and other various and associated peoples. Beta Kudos to CLeighM.

Chapter 4

Goku hated fighting. Not the friendly match. He loved that; the feel of flesh hitting bone, the adrenaline rush achieved when both fighters gave all but stopped just short of trying to kill each other. Not the innocent spar where you trained your body to improve and where you tried out that new technique you had been working on. But he hated fights to the death. Fights where emotions got involved and pride was pushed to the edge. Fights that were fought in and ruled by anger. Fights where innocent people got hurt because at least one of the combatants stopped caring about anything but destroying the other. Goku had just been involved in too many of those. A person had no choice in that type of fight. You either joined in or you lost everything. It was the type of fight that Vegeta was heading for.

Goku watched as Vegeta crossed his arms over his chest and smirked that annoying smirk that was meant solely to taunt his adversary. He really hated it when he did that. He watched Aspa struggle with the only options left to her. If she was pushed much further by them she would react violently. Her annoyance made itself apparent in the set of her jaw and the rigid muscles. If pushed to far, the others would join in and they would lose. Goku simply did not want to hurt anyone today. They hadn't really done anything dangerous. The girl had only entered the tournament and, except for that final blast which she had pulled back on, hadn't even used any excessive force. The others were just here to make sure they avoided detection by Freeza. Why was it that everything always boiled back down to the Ice-jin anyway?

He didn't really want to, considering, but when Aspa asked Vegeta to move he found himself placing his hand on Vegeta's shoulder. "Raditz," the name sounded so odd. Goku still didn't understand what would ever possess Vegeta to use his brother's name. He knew there had to be a reasonable explanation just as he knew that Vegeta would tell him in his own time. "Let them go. If the girl tries anything you or I will stop it." Perhaps they were both mellowing as the years passed in peace.

There was an "hmph" from Seloli as she stood in the corner. She continued to hold her arm close to her body. Goku still could not tell whether she was simply mad that they had interrupted or embarrassed that she was caught. He would feel a lot better about his decision if he knew what she was thinking. Then again he'd feel better about it if he knew her Ki level. It just wasn't natural to keep it that low. Aspa just glared at him. He chose to ignore her. Let Vegeta handle her, he wanted to.

"Fine," Vegeta growled. He stepped out of the way and Goku found himself letting out a little mental Thank You.

As she left, Aspa shot out to Vegeta. "_When we get back to Kudaka your existence and your actions will be reported. I'm sure someone will be out to deal with you._" The taller Saiyan finally looked at Aspa. He really did not know what Kudaka was but he suspected that the second half of that statement was meant to be a threat. Just once, he'd like to have a decision to let someone go not come back to haunt him.

As they left, he felt Gohan and Piccolo take to the sky after them. Trust Gohan to be the most suspicious of a group of Saiyans. Trunks and Goten stayed close to their mothers. But then, after the scare Vegeta gave Trunks earlier he couldn't really expect anything else.

"You two can get out now." Goku looked at the girl who remained in the room, snapping out of his personal thoughts.

"I still have questions for you girl." Goku just closed his eyes in pain. Now was not the time to be doing this. They both had questions that he was sure needed answers. The primary one in his mind was why was the girl here in the first place. Although, he was sure that Vegeta's were a little bit more specific and of a slightly different nature.

"I do not feel like answering your questions. Get Out!"

"If you think I'm just going to let you stay on this planet without you answering questions…" Goku wanted to just shake Vegeta until the other part of his brain started working again. The other Saiyan wasn't stupid. So why was he pushing the issue? The girl had just received a reprimand and dismissal in front of two people she had never met before. Her pride was probably bruised. Surely Vegeta, of all people, realized that. Did he really just want to fight that badly?

"You do not want me here? Fine, give me a ship and I will leave." She paused as if giving the smaller man time to consider the option. "Not willing to do that are you Raditz? Just get out. _You've already caused enough problems._"

"_I tried to get you sent home._" The control in his voice was thin. Goku was going to have to get him out of this room soon.

"_Really? And letting Aspa and the idiots leave was your way of accomplishing that? You would have done a better job had you stayed in the hallway and kept your mouth shut. Gi-tdor._"

Vegeta growled and grabbed the girl around the throat. Goku actually had to wonder at the wisdom of calling Vegeta the Saiyan equivalent to asshole. "You will not use that language in my presence again. Do you understand?" The girl used her good hand to try to pry away the clutching fingers. When she couldn't, she nodded her head in affirmation. Vegeta let her drop and she hit the floor trying to catch her breath and rubbing her neck. She looked at Vegeta with something akin to fear as she tried to explain herself, her voice raspy.

"_She wouldn't have been allowed to just dump me here. At the end of my leave they would have come and gotten me and you'd never see me again. Now, however, she has you to report, and you'll be a lot more interesting than me._" Yep, Goku thought, this was going to come back and haunt him. And Vegeta was going to rub it in. He could already hear the entire "I'm the Prince of all Saiyans and therefore know more than you do" speech.

With a forced smile Seloli slowly regained her feet, turned her back to them, dismissing them, and began rummaging through her bag. She pulled out some clothing and a small box. She then carefully removed the black top she was left wearing after the fight, easing it over the cast on her right arm. Goku blinked as he felt blood rush to his cheeks changing his normal hue to bright red. What was she doing? She was just getting undressed right in front of them? "What is that thing on your back?" Vegeta's roar brought Goku back to reality. Vegeta rarely yelled, rarely allowed himself to loose that much control outside of a fight. Seloli went perfectly still. For the first time Goku actually noticed the large tattoo that covered most of her back. It was symmetrical across her spine. The diamond pattern was filed in with sweeping curves and geometric patterns. At the top of the diamond was a single spike.

"_That …is none of your business._" Her voice was quiet and defeated. She still had yet to move. Suddenly, she turned around and faced them. Just turned around as if the room still had a door and there were not two men standing in front of her and as if she was not shirtless. "_Look, I'm in pain, I'm tired, I'm hungry, and I stink. I'm going to bathe now. I suppose that if you insist, you can watch._" She delivered the last line looking directly at the flame faced, taller of the two men opposite her.

Goku grabbed Vegeta's arm and pulled him out of the room.

When they reached the hall, Vegeta yanked his arm out of Goku's grasp and began walking back towards the room. The taller Saiyan once again found himself stopping his friend and pulled him the rest of the way out of the building. He did not like to use his strength against the prince, especially when he saw the munitious look on the others face. As they stepped out into the sunlight Goku once again released his old on the other warrior. He received a punch in the gut for his trouble. 'Did you really have to hit so hard, Vegeta?' Drawing his breath back into his depleted lungs he quickly tried to convince Vegeta to leave the girl in peace for a while. "Vegeta, she's not going anywhere. She's injured. She has no ship, no friends, no communicator, no money. She'll still be here later and you're more likely to get answers from her after she's calmed down."

Vegeta just stopped and looked at him. He was still pissed. He gave a short shout as he turned away. "She had better not get away Kakarrot."

Goku thought about asking the stubborn prince his own questions, now that there was an opportunity, but decided to take his own advice. Vegeta wasn't going to tell him anything while he was still in the mood he was in. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked around. People were still milling around the vendors that had set up food and gift shops around the arena. To tell the truth, there were a lot of people. What were they all still doing here? Goku breathed a heavy sigh and pulled Vegeta along to go find Hercule. The prince fumed, all the while, at the indignity of being dragged along.

They found the balding yet still afroed man still inside the empty arena, near the destroyed fighting surface, arguing with Bulma and ChiChi about the best way to get the people off the island now that the arena was cleared and whether they even needed to, now that the four "dangerous people" had left. Yeah. Island. Goku couldn't believe that he had forgotten about that part, not after he'd had to swim here for his second tournament. And since most people couldn't fly, it would have made getting all of the people off the island a challenge.

The tournament organizers and announcer stood nearby wide eyed listening to the three go at it. Their heads moving back and forth to look at each face as words were loudly exchanged. Goten and Trunks stood on opposite sides of the little crowd with their backs to them keeping a constant lookout on their surroundings. Nearby Marron and Eighteen were reviewing Marron's fights. It looked as if someone had given the girl a sensu. Kuririn stood guard with a rather haunted look in his eyes, a look that was not the sole responsibility of the planet's latest alien guests. It seemed that Roshi had tracked down Rentz and was now regaling the boy with stories. The poor kid presently sat ashen faced with his jaw hanging open while Yamcha threw him apologetic looks. He felt around for the various other ki's. Tien, Uub, and Buu were all among the crowd outside the arena. The four Saiyans were leaving the planet and Gohan and Piccolo were heading back. Walking up to the arguing trio, he told them, "It's OK, the crisis has been averted."

Smiles broke out over the faces of the monks who hosted the tournament every year and they began to wander off with the announcer speaking about staging and getting the audience back into the arena for the awards ceremony. Behind him there was a loud sigh and a "Thank Kami." He looked over his shoulder to see Trunks looking nervously at his father who was in turn staring intently at his woman, though Bulma always objected to being called that. It still amazed him how his oldest friend had caused such a transformation in the hardened warrior. He figured that most of Vegeta's odd behavior could be attributed to the need to protect Bulma but he still would like to hear the entire story, but not now.

ChiChi rushed over and latched on to his arm, pulling his shoulder downward with some force. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how strong she was, though she was still very weak in comparison to his own ever growing strength. He had never really gotten used to the position. It really did make it hard to walk. Instead, he detached his wife and pulled her into a hug against his chest where she mumbled about how frightened she was, and how Gohan and Goten knew something, but would not tell her, and then how they would not let her leave to find out what, and how he was never allowed to leave her like that again.

He stared down at her ebony locks, and, not for the first time, wondered what he ever did to earn the affection of this strong, fierce, woman in his arms. The woman who was not afraid to yell at him despite his strength, and had what was likely an unhealthy obsession with weaponry, especially very sharp blades.

Kami knew he wasn't the perfect husband. He had spent most of the beginning of his marriage either dead or away and it never seemed to bother him. When he had come back it amazed him how much had changed, not only at home but with himself as well. He couldn't stay away from them. Even when he trained Uub, he had only lasted a month before the boy found himself living on Mount Pauzo. He did not want to think about how many times he had broken things or accidentally knocked her through a wall. So now he just held her and allowed her to mumble into his chest while he traced soft circles onto her back.

He looked up as Goten approached with his hands in his pockets and his eyes on the ground. "Is everything really OK, Dad?"

"Yeah son, it is. For now."

"Then why was"

"I'll tell you later." Later being after he had his chat with Vegeta. Of course their chats were usually done in the desert where conversation was only had between punches.

Gohan and Piccolo landed nearby. "Four of them left, but the fifth one was not in her pod when it took off."

"That's because your father let them leave her here." Goku felt all eyes turn to him with questioning glances. 'Oh boy, here it comes.'

TBC

Reviews Appreciated.


	5. Of Things That Go Missing

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I am nothing. I am writing this simply for my own pleasure and am not making any money from it. Dragonball Z and its characters are the property of Akira Toriyama and other various and associated peoples.

A/N: Cleighm, my awesome beta reader, told me that I needed to include the following: "_conversation in italics"_ speech in Saiyago. Personally, I know my readers are smart enough to figure that out, but…

Chapter 5: Missing

"WHAT? Are you nuts? Please tell me he's lying." Gohan searched his father's face first and then Vegeta's for confirmation of the truth. He then turned to survey the others looking for their reactions. Surprise marked the faces of everyone. Even ChiChi had stepped back to look accusingly at her husband.

The Saiyan prince gave Goku a small salute. He should have known that Vegeta would get him back for dragging him around like a lost puppy. Goku just sighed and dropped his head. Suddenly that spot on the back of his neck began to itch again.

When he looked back up he smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, Gohan she is still here."

"Why?" The question had come from more than one corner and everyone stilled in expectation of the answer.

"Because, she's really not a threat."

"Not a threat?" Kuririn walked forward almost pushing Gohan out of the way. "She almost killed Marron."

The woman in question's head popped up and she looked at her father. "But she didn't." The girl's voice was quiet before gaining confidence and authority. "I'm fine. That ki blast didn't hit. Besides, it was my fault. I tried to grab her tail." Under her breath she mumbled, "Kinda what I get for trying something underhanded." Marron raised her hand and began chewing on her thumb nail only to have Eighteen slap her hand back down into her lap.

"She's got a point cue ball. Second class Saiyans usually don't train their tails the way I did." Vegeta was honestly surprised that the little blonde had tried it. It must have been her mother's influence. Her father was too much of a goody goody to teach her things like that. Perhaps he should encourage Trunks in that direction after all. 'Or not,' he thought as he saw the storm clouds gather in the android's eyes at the suggestion and idly wondered if it would have been wiser just to keep his mouth shut.

"Marron, it certainly was not your fault. A girl who underwent extensive training, the way Vegeta says Saiyans do, should have had better control." Eighteen just blinked at the Prince and smiled to herself as his countenance darkened. She wasn't able to beat the crap out of him any more but it still felt good to get a dig in every once in a while. She saw him open his mouth to respond and defend his "subject". He evidently thought better of it, however, when he shut his mouth with a snap and just continued to scowl at her.

Marron grit her teeth against the embarrassment her parents were heaping upon her. She was old enough to take care of herself, for crying out loud, she was twenty four. She had a college degree, a job outside of her parents B&B, and her own apartment in South City. She no longer needed her parents to take care of her anymore, especially with Trunks standing right there.

She shot a glance at the man whose attention she had finally earned that day. However, he did not appear to be listening to the conversation at all. He just stood there, his hands by his side unknowingly causing the shirt to stretch over the planes of his chest, worrying his lip. Occasionally his head would stretch forward on his neck in the direction of his father and he would sniff the air.

Unaware of the scrutiny, the lavender haired demi Saiyan observed his father. There was nothing to suggest the same tension that was riding him in the hallway of the main building. He could still smell the hint of fear in the air but it seemed to emanate from the others gathered instead of the short, flame haired, man whose face he had inherited. He supposed it was possible to have misread the signal. After all, Goku had said the girl was harmless. His father seemed to agree with the assessment. He had to have sensed wrong. Vegeta was the last person he ever expected to show fear.

Then Trunks noticed it. At the end of the exchange with Eighteen, Vegeta pulled up on his gloves and tightened the strap over his wrist. He then rubbed his forearm looking for the fabric from the gauntlet which was not there. He had always worn gloves in public. When Trunks was attending middle school, his friends used to tease him about his father's "Renaissance gloves." Ten years ago, he had finally managed to convince Vegeta to set aside the cuffed gloves in favor of a more modern driving glove. The gesture was not noticeable to anyone who did not spend large amounts of time with the prince. The only reason Trunks noticed was that he had tried to wear gloves at one time in a short lived bid to be even more like his father. No, the shorter man wasn't afraid but he was not happy with the current situation.

Trunks shot a glance at Goten who just shrugged and rolled his eyes in that "you know they like to keep us out of the loop" expression he had perfected sometime during high school. He rolled his own back in silent communication and just smiled to himself as the knot of tension finally eased up in his stomach.

"The problem is not what happened during that fight. The problem is that we have an unknown Saiyan on this planet and we don't even know why she is here." Piccolo was beginning to get annoyed with the petty bickering. He looked between Vegeta and Goku. "Do we know why she is here yet?" The tall saiyan grimaced and continued to rub the back of his head.

His partner-in-crime's smirk just got bigger because he realized that, for once, the rest of Earth's defenders were going to agree with him instead of Kakarrot. "Kakarrot decided that we didn't need to ask her questions."

"She wasn't going to answer them **Raditz**. She was too mad; and you know that." Goku deliberately added emphasis on his brother's name causing Vegeta's smirk to transform into a glower and the others to look at him oddly. He then turned to the rest and answered Kuririn's implied question from earlier with the same argument he had given the Saiyan prince while standing outside the main building.

The Namek crossed his arms over his chest, the green and pink contrasting with the deep indigo of the fabric. "I don't like it. I agree with Vegeta; this can't be put off for long and certainly not because the girl is having a bad day. But I will defer to your judgment for now."

Bulma looked between her mate and her best friend to gauge their reactions. Something was off with the exchange between the two. Goku's deliberate use of the wrong name did not improve the situation any. The two seemed more annoyed with each other than with the situation at hand. Annoyance was par for the course with her husband, but seeing exasperation on the face of Goku was a new experience. She blinked, not quite sure it wasn't just a trick of the light.

Static further broke the tension within the small group as it crackled over the loud speakers throughout the small island. The tournament committee announced that the stadium was safe to return to and that the award ceremony would begin within the hour.

Marron heard the announcement and looked down at her tattered clothes. If the girls at work saw her in this… She began to start giggling before her parents threw her the parent glare, guaranteed to make children throughout the universe tremble in fear. "If it's going start soon I guess I'd better get changed. I want to look presentable." She grabbed her extra clothes capsule, brushed herself off as she stood up, and began toward the main building. She chose to ignore the appalled look in her father's eyes. She did, however, note his relieved sigh when Goten quickly stepped in.

"Marron, why don't I walk with you?"

She just nodded her assent. She would have preferred that he were Trunks but her father was happy so she guessed he'd do.

Gohan stayed quiet and stared at nothing in particular while he pondered the day's events so far. He was overanalyzing again and he knew it. Lately that seemed to be the thing he did best. Dr. Gohan Son: overanalyist at large. Just once he wished he could have his dad's disposition. Everything always came up smelling like roses around his father, whether it really should or not. Videl and Goten would tell him he just needed to lighten up and not take things so seriously. 'One little slip up won't be the end of the world. That comes from big ugly aliens.'

Perhaps they were right. Perhaps his dad was right. But then again, she was an alien from the same race that spawned Vegeta, Nappa, and Raditz.

He looked up to watch his brother walk away with Marron. He smiled to himself. It had just dawned on him that his baby brother was all grown up. After being not only a brother but a surrogate father as well for so long he wondered how he had missed it. Why it surprised him he didn't know. He was more than happy to let his father take over those duties upon his return; actually basking in the fact that he got to be the son again. Besides he now had a wife and child of his own to raise.

He swiveled his head around looking for Videl when he suddenly realized that she was missing. He pushed out a little of his own ki and waited for a response from hers. After a few seconds of waiting, there was nothing. He pushed his ki out again, stronger this time. Again, he received no response. He tried a third time, this time centering on the girls' ki. Both Pan and Bra would have kis strong enough to detect easily. He still could not find them. It was as if they had vanished.

"Um… Bulma, Pop? Where did Videl go?"

Both Bulma and Hercule turned, speaking at the same time. "What do you mean where is my little girl?" "She said that she was taking the girls someplace safer."

Gohan struggled to remain calm. The last thing he needed to do was overreact, especially with Hercule's face turning unnatural shades and his eyes bugging out. "Bulma, where did she take them?"

"I don't know Gohan. Something about a bunker. I'm sure she's on her way back after hearing that announcement."

"Bra is with her?" Vegeta's ki radiated outward from his core in the form of a strong wind that swept the island looking for his daughter.

Both men turned toward Hercule. Gohan, seeing the look on the Saiyan Prince's face, forced his mouth to catch up with his thoughts before things got out of hand. "Pop, do you know what bunker she might have been talking about?"

It took Hercule a few minutes to process the fact that he had just been asked a question. "There's my old room under the stadium but I thought they tore that out. It was pretty secure," he boasted, "We used a special type of brick to build it."

"Quiet fool! How do you get there?"

Hercule began to sputter and looked around to see if anyone was looking. It simply would not do to be seen cowering from this short little man. He may be retired but he was still "The Champ." "You go… You go down the stairs at the back… at the back of the main building. It's the only room down there."

The next instant both fathers were gone.

Gohan looked around the room. It was spartan with a long sofa, a table, a microwave, and a radio. Along one wall were mops and cleaning equipment. "Well, they were here."

"How do you know?"

He picked up the Jenga block from the floor and handed it to Vegeta. "It's Pan's. Goten gave her the game two years ago. Said it would teach her fine muscle movement and how to find the center of gravity." He turned and exited the room. "That and I think he just wanted to give her something she could build stuff with." As the door closed behind him he felt Vegeta's ki disappear and then quickly reappear.

"What's wrong boy?"

"Nothing, I just lost your ki signature for a second there."

Vegeta stepped back inside the room and looked at the walls. He then aimed a punch and a ki blast a one of them. Neither created a scratch. "No wonder. The brick is a CC product. It's the same brick that's lining the gravity room. Your father could be down here at Super Saiyan three and we'd never know it."

The compact Prince sent out another flare of searcher ki and was already on his way upstairs when the boy stated the obvious. "They're on the first floor." He grunted an acknowledgement and gave him the 'I already knew that look' that always had Kakarrot giggling and scratching the back of his head.

Videl sat just outside the doorway to the inner sanctum of Marron's dressing room talking to the blonde and watching her brother-in-law playfully wrestle with the two girls. On their way back up to the arena she had met up with the couple and decided to join them while they caught her up on what was happening.

She started when Gohan and Vegeta stormed into the room, both a little wild eyed. "Gohan? What's wro…" Her husband walked up, pulled her into the most crushing hold he had ever used, and silenced her questions with his lips. Not that she minded. He was usually so gentle, so considerate. It was almost a welcome change.

She wasn't sure what caused this but she felt the tears on his face and the panting in her ears when he finally broke their kiss. Outside of the protection of his arms she heard Goten's exclamation of surprise, Bra's squeal of "Daddy!", and felt the hit as their own daughter collided with the two of them, hugging just above the waist. Gohan never released her but did move one of his arms from around her to Pan's back.

Marron entered the outer chamber and looked around. "I don't know what's going on but there are too many people in my dressing room." She had changed into a clean well tailored gi and had let her hair down so that the blonde waves spilled over her shoulders.

"We just came to get Videl and the girls. We're leaving now."

"Good. For a second there I thought I was going to get the kind of show Muten Roshi would kill for."

Goten began rolling on the floor in uncontrollable laughter when both members of the married couple turned scarlet. His brother shot him a withering look as they left the room.

Vegeta stepped into the light outside carrying his daughter on his back. He had tried to get out of the undignified position, but Bra had just batted her mother's blue eyes at him and begged him 'pretty please with a cherry on top.' It bothered him that he, the Prince of all Saiyans, could be brought low by a pair of blue eyes and a childish voice. She prattled on about what she had done since the tournament ended, beating Pan at Jenga and killing Uncle Goten. Vegeta just smirked. 'That's my girl.'

"Look Daddy. It's the girl who won. She sure is dressed funny." The problem was walking with one of the monks. Like Marron, she had cleaned up and taken her hair down. It fell just to her shoulders in a mass of black spikes. Unlike Marron, however, her clothes were neither fashionable nor trendy. They were obviously off planet in both fabric content and design and put together with the sense of color and functional design that typified most Saiyan clothing. Vegeta almost found the look pleasing and nostalgic.

The problem looked over when she heard Bra's comment and sneered at the child. "_I assume she's yours Raditz?_" She then ignored him and addressed Bra. "_Well aren't you the ugliest little ape I've ever seen. Just look at that hideous head of hair. Really Raditz, you should have killed her at birth. I'd be ashamed to have whelped such an ugly, disfigured child._"

Vegeta was glad to hear his native tongue. It meant Bra was spared from the comment. He gave her to Gohan, who had already pushed his own family behind him, and advanced on the other saiyan. He wanted to rip her head from her body, fry the pieces, and then perhaps even feed them to that pet dinosaur of Gohan's. Unfortunately, his daughter was watching. The last thing he wanted to expose her to being "Daddy" killing the "girl who won." His ki flared upward enough to bring Kakarrot, Piccolo, and Tien to the scene. He felt the answering flare from Trunks, who thankfully had enough sense to stay with his mother.

When the ki flare alone failed to intimidate the girl he realized that she could not sense his power level without a scouter. He has assumed that since she could mask it she could sense it. Apparently, he was wrong. Time to use old fashioned intimidation. He invaded her personal space, bared his teeth, and growled.

"_Girl, your second class status means nothing here. The only reason you are not dead yet is because you are the only one left to ask questions of. If I were you, I would stop pushing my luck. Otherwise, not only will I take your tail, but I'll blow you into pieces so small they'll be floating around the stratosphere for decades._"

Vegeta enjoyed the smell of fear that entered the air.

The monk had wedged himself between them. "Sir we're about to start the award ceremony. You all need to take your seats."

Goku wasn't sure what had just happened, but was glad it ended peacefully. He glanced at his son as he stood there; ready to protect what he loved. The boy's eyes were flat, every sense sharp, as the rocked onto the balls of his feet. Gohan had always been a timid fighter, always questioning his own power level and skill; his very ability to fight. Goku remembered the look of fear that crossed his son's face when he first could not find Videl. Now his oldest son stood there with that same feral readiness that was displayed from the men in the dressing room earlier. He stood poised, drawing on his power and wrapping it around him in a testament to his will to fight anything that threatened those he held dear. He didn't relax until the saiyan girl walked away. He reached behind him and brought his family to him. For the first time, Goku saw the man he had become.

The award ceremony passed uneventfully. The girls collected their prizes and checks then shook each other's hands while the crowd cheered. When it was over, the crowd again rushed the field to congratulate them both. When Seloli noticed Goku and Vegeta heading her way she smirked at them and allowed the crowd to swallow her.

After several hours of looking, Yamcha found Goku. "She's gone." In his hands was the leather jerkin she had worn to the award ceremony. "One of the merchants claimed that when he returned to his trailer his clothes were strewn about and some were missing. It included his favorite hat. This was on the floor."

When everyone had gathered back in the box, Yamcha told the others. Goku had never felt as heavy as he did at that moment. He still felt that they could handle anything that she would try though.

"You don't think she'll actually try anything, do you?" Uub had stayed quiet most of the day. He really didn't understand what the problem was. Weren't both Goku and Vegeta Saiyans?

"No." Gohan spoke up. "At least not now. Vegeta scared her earlier. She'll wait until the other four bring reinforcements."

The group of friends fell silent, each lost in their own thoughts. It seemed that the idea of even more Saiyans had not really occurred to them. They had always just faced one foe at a time.

"There is one other thing, Kakarrot. Now she has money." On that note, Vegeta packed up his family to go home. The others followed in a mass exodus, hugging and congratulating Marron on their way out and promising to be at her victory party next week.

TBC

Reviews Appreciated


	6. Of Sleep and Homes and Rings

Disclaimer: Only in my dreams.

Chapter 6: Solace

Gohan took off his glasses and tossed them onto the desk. He then rubbed tired eyes and tried to focus on the computer screen in front of him in the futile hope that he would suddenly have perfect vision. He found the entire situation terribly unfair. With all the saiyan genetics, his height, his strength, and advanced hearing and smell, he ended up with his grandfather's eyes. He really hated the reading glasses but supposed that he should just be happy that he wasn't in bifocals just yet.

His hand began to rub the back of his neck in a gesture that reminded everyone of his dad. He tried to reset his shoulders, which unfortunately did not work. It really never did and he wasn't sure why he kept trying. He dropped his head forward and rolled it from side to side willing the Vertebrae to align correctly and the muscles to elongate. Lifting his head, he placed his glasses back on and, with a swipe of his hand through his ebony spikes, stared bleary-eyed at the screen. He made the programs flip through the various maps he created that described the criminal activity in Cherry Town over the last twenty years. Every so often he would stop and make notes on the changes he saw in the ebb and flow of crime types.

"Gohan, it's two in the morning. Come to bed." The oldest demi Saiyan looked toward the darkened doorway of his study as his wife filled the entrance giving body to her voice. She wore one of his old t-shirts that hung down to her mid thigh and her midnight hair was tousled from her pillow.

"I will in a bit. I'm not really tired yet." He turned back to the screen and his notes.

Videl looked at the love of her life. She took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before releasing it in an audible rush. She might have believed him had she not seen the circles under his eyes or the way he shuffled his feet instead of walking when he came in from his afternoon spar with Goku. She had been missing his warmth in bed at night for this past week and assumed that he was only getting one or two hours a night.

She leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms over her chest. "Gohan, you need sleep. You're going to make yourself sick. Turn off the computer and come to bed."

"Just let me finish this first."

Videl pushed herself off the door and slid into the darkened room watching the colors from the computer screen play across Gohan's face. The glowing light just served to highlight the strong planes of his face and broadness of his chest and shoulders. She moved up behind him and placed her hands on his shoulders. He hissed and leaned forward, removing her hands.

"Don't."

Videl let her hands fall to the back of his chair, the leather cool against her skin, and forced herself to keep them there. He rarely turned down a massage. Usually his head would fall forward and he'd succumb to the pleasurable torture her hands would inflict as she worked out the knots that always seemed to gather in his neck. He never did tell her why his neck seemed to constantly hurt and she never thought it her place to ask. "So, what are you are looking at?"

"Videl." She heard the exasperation in his voice. He turned a little in his chair and looked over his shoulder at her, wincing in pain.

"You might as well tell me Gohan. I'm not going to bed until you do." She pulled the chair from her computer over next to his and sat down on it. She made a show of settling in to make herself comfortable.

"Don't be ridiculous. You need your sleep."

"So do you."

"Fine." His shoulders slumped and he turned back to the screen. "This map shows every crime reported in Cherry Town five years ago and where that crime occurred." He continued to explain the meanings of the symbols on the map and how the computer program was able to manipulate the data that helped create it. After a few minutes he turned to look at her, placing one arm over the back of his chair and propping his head on the other. "Bored yet?"

Yes! Unbelievably so. "Not really. Why are you looking at all of this again?"

"One: it will help the police identify changing patterns in crime and perhaps somewhat predict where the next problem area will be. It also helps identify the programs that actually help alleviate crime. And two: it'll make a great paper to present at conference next fall."

"So the Great Saiyaman is helping fight crime with his brains instead of his brawn huh?" She watched as he stifled a yawn and rubbed his eyes underneath the rim of his glasses before rolling his eyes at her. "I thought you said you weren't tired."

His posture fell as he let out a long suffering sigh and faced away from her. She grabbed the arm of his chair and swiveled it until he faced her. Grabbing his hands she said, "Gohan, I need you to tell me what's wrong. You come home from work, fight yourself into exhaustion, and then work at this all night. I'm worried." She reached up and removed his glasses so that he would be able to see her face without any distortions.

"Videl, there's nothing…"

"Don't lie to me Gohan."

He stared at her without blinking for what seemed like an eternity. The only noise in the room was the whirring of the computer drives as they manually saved the data and hum of the monitor fan. "I just haven't been able to sleep that's all. It's really nothing to be worried about."

She couldn't help it. She had never seen him like this. This wasn't her husband. The man who sat before her was mostly a shell. He wasn't even this bad after Buu. She closed her eyes and dropped her head in understanding. She leaned forward and rested the top of her head on the planes of his chest releasing a ragged breath. This was her fault.

"Honey, I'm so sorry. I should have made sure that Bulma knew exactly where I was. I should have never scared you like that."

Gohan looked down at the back of his wife's neck. He heard the faint sniffles that underlay her voice. In the back of his mind the mantra just kept repeating itself, 'This is not her fault. It's mine. I was the one who wasn't there to protect her.'

He leaned back and, placing a hand under her chin, lifted her face to meet his eyes. With his thumbs he swiped at the tears caught in her lower lash. He studied her face and noticed her hands twisting in the hem of his t-shirt that she wore. How could he possibly lay voice to the nightmares that gripped him every night?

When he closed his eyes he saw visions of his wife and child dead from a ki blast because he had not been there to protect them. How he had never been able to protect the lives of the people most important to him. After Buu, he had succumbed to Vegeta's derision about his lack of training because the older man was right. Now, there was always an afternoon spar with his dad and numerous weekend spars with Goten and Uub so that it would never happen again. When he hadn't been able to find Videl, he knew he had failed. The years of training did nothing.

"Del, I …" She placed her fingers over his mouth. He felt the moisture track down his cheek.

"Shhh. I know. You don't need to say it. You did what you had to do. And you know, as well as I do that Pan and I can take care of ourselves. Both you and your father saw to that." When he tried to look away she got off the chair and sat on her ankles in front of him. She placed her face directly in his field of vision so he would have to look at her. "No one is asking you to be him because you're not. If you were, you wouldn't be the man I blackmailed into falling in love with me. And I think your mother is a much stronger woman than me."

Despite himself, Gohan felt the laugh push it way out of his chest. He looked at his wife as she smiled up at him. Her soft black hair tumbled haphazardly around her face and the changing colors from the screensaver only caused sparkles to dance off of those two twin oceans that he could easily drown in. How she knew some of the things she did he never understood.

She smiled softly up at him before dropping her gaze to the spot where her hand played with the fabric covering his knee. "You can always talk to me. Don't keep things like this bottled up again."

"I promise."

"Does that mean you'll come to bed? You do need the sleep. You have a class to teach in the morning."

"I'll try." He let the implication behind his words stand. He touched her cheek and ran his fingers through the short silken jet locks.

She smoothed the fabric over the muscles in his thigh and leaned into his caress as her hand moved farther up his leg. "I'm sure we could find something to tire you out."

---

The French doors to the balcony were open. The nighttime breeze swept over the lawn and into the room chilling the occupants. The man stood in the doorframe and let nature run non-existent fingers through his upswept mane. He turned and looked at the woman as she whimpered and snuggled further into what little warmth remained on his side of the bed. Studying her while she slept, he memorized her shape. Her face smoothed out while she slept; transforming her back into the naive, stupid, young woman who reached out to the mass murder she allowed into her home. It was times such as these that the man knew he must commit to memory.

Everything could be gone with the snap of a wrist. He had seen it often enough, experienced it often enough, caused it often enough. Vegeta suddenly turned away from the form of his sleeping mate to look out the open door again.

He looked up at the sky and saw the sliver of the descending moon. He reached up and traced the shape with his finger. He had never seen the moon on Vegita-sei. Nappa used to go on and on about how the moons were sacred. He had finally gotten so sick of listening to him that he threatened the idiot into silence. When Kami restored the Earth's moon, he finally understood Nappa's sentiment. That first full moon had pulled at his soul.

He closed his eyes and breathed in the air. The sweet smell of early spring flowers and an oncoming storm floated into the room reassuring him that he was home and all was well with the world. Home. He wasn't sure how or when it happened, how Earth became home and how these people became his friends and family, but this mudball became almost as precious to him as it was to Goku.

Dark eyes roved from the moon to the few stars that had yet to be obliterated by the oncoming clouds. They were nothing but giant balls of burning hydrogen and helium but each had planets around them. Two of them once had a small red planet shared between them. When he was a child, Nappa had made sure he could locate them from anywhere in the galaxy. Now, he couldn't even point in their general direction.

This was not how he ever expected his life to turn out. It certainly was not the life Freeza envisioned for him. Although he had met a few of his father's expectations, the current situation could not even come close to the life the king had mapped out for him. His face hardened as he closed his eyes and envisioned that life. He could picture himself on the throne, glowing with power. Saiyans teemed over the surrounding landscape. Those images haunted his dreams every night for the last week. Contemplating the stars did not help any.

The first rain drops slapped against his face as the winds picked up, blowing the curtains around him. He heard another whimper from inside the room. Stepping back he closed the doors and drew the curtains, shutting out the churning storm outside. He moved back to the bed and slipped under the cloying covers, pulling his mate to him.

---

Yamcha paced around the living room of his small house stretching his favorite bat over his shoulders. He tried to look anywhere but at the strange leather jerkin that lay over one of the breakfast nook chairs. The ball player could still feel it in his hands; slippery without being slimy and just a little to thin to be normal. The garment just left his stomach in knots. It represented too many possibilities, unknowns, and fears.

He was getting to old for this. The players on the team he managed talked behind his back in the locker rooms. They all wanted to know how he still managed to pitch a hundred and fifty mile an hour fast ball at his age. He let out a soundless laugh. If they only knew. Sometimes he felt that his martial arts training only managed to give him a strong throwing arm. His time to play hero was over; not that he ever had one. What did he do with it besides die twice? Three, if you counted the jaunt Kami sent him on to Vegetasei. He shouldn't even be here by all rights. What did he have to show for his two second chances?

He finally stopped his movement and looked out the window into his back yard. The empty backyard. The lawn was cut and the gardens were meticulously kept due to the expertise of his gardeners. Sunlight dappled down through the trees, over the lush grass and, sparkled over the small pool tucked into the corner. Even with the all the perfectly spaced life, the yard had no soul, no laughter. To be perfectly honest, the house was just a bunch of walls as well. His stuff was there but he rarely was. He spent most of his time on the road.

He stepped through the patio door and ran his hand over the top of the grill, he never used, that Bulma gave him a few years ago. Sitting down, he propped the bat against the patio table and ran his hands through the short hair on his head. Sometimes he missed the length he had when he was younger. Long hair would look stupid now though; too much grey at the temples. He let the morning sun pour across his face as he looked out at the lush lawn.

He envied his friends and their families. Houses full of people. Back yards filled with toys and children. He was the only one with no family outside of Puar. Kuririn had managed to get married; his daughter out of college. Even Gohan, Goku's oldest child, had children. He wondered what happened. How had he managed to miss out?

His thoughts turned to the woman he had been dating for the past two years. She was a divorced mother of three. Her youngest was still in his last year of high school. During the past five months she had been hinting at marriage. He wasn't sure why but he kept putting the idea off. He was not scared of commitment; he used to talk seriously with Bulma about getting married. But he had never told her about any of it, about playing hero, or dying, or aliens, or Cell, or Buu. Somehow it felt like he was lying.

Then again how do you tell your girlfriend that you willingly put your life on the line every time the Earth is threatened? She knew he was a fighter at one time, but only because he had gone to support Marron. She had never met the others although he spoke of them often. He loved her, he really did. He got along with her kids and even that putz of an ex-husband of hers. Funny how just thinking about her made him feel better. Over the past year she had become his foundation. She never accused him of cheating, the way Bulma had, and never wished him to be stronger or something he could never be, Saiyan.

Inside he could hear Puar up and banging pans in the kitchen. "Yamcha, breakfast? Why are you out here alone?"

"What would you say if I told you we weren't going to be alone anymore?" The floating cat looked quizzically at her companion and blinked.

Her blue and white face split into a grin as she finally understood. "I'd say it's about time."

Yamcha stood up and smiled at his friend then strode into the house towards the shower. He walked past the chair with the unusual jerkin without sparing it a glance. He had a ring to buy.

---

ChiChi watched her husband's forehead wrinkle in thought as he pushed the food around on his plate. The action was really beginning to worry her. He had not even taken a single bite out of his breakfast yet and her husband was known for the bottomless pit that was his stomach. The teenager at the other end of the table sat eating slowly while never taking his eyes off his sensei's plate. He eventually looked up and shot ChiChi a glance with a brow raised in question. She shrugged in return.

Suddenly Goku looked up at the young island man. "Uub, I want you to take some time off. Take a month or two. Go visit your mother and the rest of your family. We'll resume training when you get back." He ended the sentence by shoveling the seemingly forgotten breakfast in his mouth.

The boy sat at the other end perfectly still; eyes wide and mouth open. The warrior princess looked askance at the being happily eating. Who was he and where had he put her husband? "Sir, may I ask why?"

Goku stopped eating and looked at Uub. "We've all been a little distracted lately. Gohan's barely keeping his feet under him and you've been hesitant. Think of it as a chance to recharge and refocus." Goku continued to eat and look at the other two at the table. "I tell you what; while you're gone I'll even talk to Vegeta and see if he'd be willing to work with you some."

ChiChi remained still for a minute or two before she remembered something important. "Goku, it's the middle of the school year. He still has to go to school. I promised his mother that he would get an education while living here and I intend to keep that promise." It wasn't fair. She had gotten used to having a house full of boys. When her husband had brought Uub home with him she had decided that she would treat him the same as her own children. Now Goku was sending him away and she wasn't ready for that yet.

"You're crazy Chi. He can get to school just as easily from there as he can from here."

Why couldn't he be wrong this time? Why couldn't she think of another argument to use? She watched as Goku grabbed another serving of eggs and Uub excused himself from the table to call his mother. Funny how the house suddenly became eerily quiet. She looked at her husband and slowly ate her breakfast. The princess consoled herself that it would only be for a few months. Besides, Gohan and Videl had Pan right next door and it might even be fun to have her house and her husband, at this she smiled secretly, to herself. With that though she straightened up and moved her chair a little closer to Goku's. She watched his spikes bob up and down as he ate and she failed to notice that the wrinkle in his forehead never smoothed out.

TBC

Reviews Appreciated


	7. Of Princes and Paparazzi

Disclaimer: Do I have to repeat myself?

Chapter 7: Of Princes and Paparazzi

Trunks slid into the booth across from his best friend. "Sorry I'm late. I got a little held up at work."

Goten looked up from his coffee. "What happened?"

Trunks sighed and ran a hand over his face then pushed away the lavender strands of his hair. "The project I was working on backfired. Nothing out of the ordinary except Father through a fit because he thought Mom was in the lab during the explosion. It took forever to calm him down. He's been acting real funny lately."

"You too? Dad's actually sending Uub home. I got to listen to Mom complain about it for over an hour last night."

The waitress approached the table and set down the multiple plates of food required to feed both men. He stared at it, confused, until Goten spoke up. "I took the liberty of ordering for you. I hope you don't mind."

"Thanks, but, um… dude, don't say things like that to me."

His friend shot him a toothy grin before biting into his first burger. Trunks finally took in his appearance. The other man wore a dress shirt; the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the top button undone, and his tie loosened. He had even tried to tame the wild black spikes that framed his face into some semblance of order. "You look awfully dressed up today."

Goten paused, looked up at Trunks and then looked back down at his clothes. "Oh, thanks. I had a meeting this morning with one of those annoying corporate types. You know the type I'm talking about. Anyway, my boss said that it would 'behoove me to dress well.' Personally, I hate suits. You don't look any worse for wear yourself for being in an explosion this morning."

"We're working on a new engine. Testing is done on the other side of ki resistant glass." Trunks took another bite of his own food and casually changed the subject. "So what would you have done if I didn't show?"

"Big lunch tomorrow?"

"I guess that means you aren't going to Marron's party?"

"Of course I'm going."

"Are you bringing a date?" The dark haired man's head popped up and he looked at his companion with something akin to both horror and confusion. "You should bring a date. You haven't dated someone in what, a year?"

"I wasn't really planning on it." The youngest Son dragged out the statement hoping to glean some clue from his friends face as to the cause of this line of questioning. "Besides, you're one to talk. You may have a different girl on your arm every week but your last serious relationship was over two years ago with that cute red head. What was her name?" Goten closed his eyes in concentration, pursed his lips, and began snapping his fingers.

"Adrienne."

"Yeah. That one. What ever happened to her?"

"She went to go study bones somewhere." Trunks did not like the turn in the conversation. In fact, the breakup still stung. He didn't understand why she left him. He had wanted her to stay but she had given him some excuse about following her dreams and left. "Who I dated before is not the point. You should still bring a date to Marron's party. It'll make your mom happy."

Goten actually dropped his food and stared wide eyed at his friend. "Which is exactly why it is not going to happen. Do you really want to see me or some poor innocent girl killed? You didn't see what happened with Gohan and Videl once Mom got her claws into that relationship. Maybe… if I was seeing someone at the moment, but, I'm not; and I don't consider our extended family reunion the best place for a first date."

'Damn, he's right.' He really wanted his friend to be occupied tomorrow. "It's kind of cool that it's a victory party. I didn't even realize Marron was that strong."

Goten stilled and looked at his friend. "She is Kuririn and Eighteen's daughter. What did you expect?"

"I don't know. She was always Marron, the brat that always followed us around hoping that we'd include her in something. I just never expected her to be that good, at anything."

Goten rubbed his hand over his jaw and mouth. "Trunks, she's that good at a lot of things." The purple haired demi leaned back against his bench and cocked his head to the side. "For starters, her boss loves her and the work that she's doing."

"She makes clothes. It's not exactly rocket science."

Goten leaned back in the booth and lay his hands over his full stomach. "Really? Who designed your tux?"

Goten watched as his best friend's face scrunched up. "What does that have to do with anything?" The darker haired man just smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Armani."

"And you know this why?"

"Because, when you spend that much money on a suit, you should get the best."

Goten laid his forearms on the edge of the table and leaned forward. "Marron works for the most prestigious design firm in South City. They only hire the most talented designers. I can't afford the clothes she designs. She is better at what she does than I am at what I do. And you have to admit, I'm really good at what I do."

"Is that so?"

"She's the one who overhauled Gohan's closet."

Trunks' forehead wrinkled and he blinked. "I thought you and Videl did that for his birthday."

"Yeah, but we brought in Marron for professional assistance. She actually made most of the decisions. In college, she interned under a style consultant so she knew what she was doing. To tell you the truth, we're lucky she didn't charge us. All she wanted was the right to burn that blue suit of his."

"I was wondering how you managed to make that thing disappear. Well, you seem to have done a great job. He's dressing like a normal person." The older man stopped and looked down into his teacup. "I guess you got to know her pretty well huh?"

"That's what happens when you work with someone everyday for a month and a half."

"Do you know if she's seeing anyone at the moment?"

Goten's mouth thinned as he seemed to mule over his answer. "I know she gets asked out a lot. But, no, she's not seeing anyone." He suddenly looked at his watch then ran his fingers through his hair, mussing it. "Look, I got to go. I have to check some things at the office then go out to the Murphy site. The contractor has some changes he wants to go over. I'll see you tomorrow?" Goten stood up and pulled out his wallet to pay his share.

"Hold up a sec. I'll walk out with you. I have to head back to the lab as well." Trunks paid his share and stood up.

As the pair walked out, Trunks looked at his companion. "Save me a spar for tomorrow?"

Goten bumped his friend causing him to stumble sideways some. "Only if you help me gang up on my dad later."

"Done." Trunks bumped back causing Goten to grab his arm to avoid stumbling.

"Thank you your highnesses!" Both men looked up in time to see the vulture across the street salute them with his camera then tear off.

"Son of a bitch!" Trunks felt the grip on his arm restraining him from hunting the jerk down.

"Let him go Trunks. The last thing you need is an assault charge. That's what he wants. Otherwise, he wouldn't have said anything. It's the only way he is going to sell that picture."

"Damn it. I thought they were finally leaving us alone. Go to work. I promise not to hunt him down. See you tomorrow."

Goten looked at him carefully before smiling, unencapsulating his car and waving as he left. Trunks slammed his fist into a nearby light pole, denting it. After checking for more photographers, he slid behind the building and took to the sky. He let the feel of his own ki wash over him and allowed the wind to strip away the frustrations.

After his junior division win all those years ago it did not take the media long to figure out that he was the son of Bulma Briefs and her rather enigmatic common law husband. One or the other was bad enough, but both combined just assured that he spent his life in the spotlight. Every aspect of his life was looked into. Somehow the media had learned out that Vegeta was a prince; although they could never figure out from where and it was assumed that he was a member of one of the many deposed royal families of the East Sea archipelago. Fortunately, his father's disposition kept the media away from the house and away from him personally.

In almost the same amount of time, it was realized that Goten was the son of the Ox King's only daughter. As a result, the Son's also became a target. When Gohan and Videl's relationship was rooted out, they became the darlings of the paparazzi until their wedding thirteen years ago. It really wasn't until high school though that the photographers centered on him and Goten. His looks and Goten's easy charm assured both of them success with women and they often double dated. At that time, however, the press had labeled them the "Playboy Princes," a moniker they had yet to divest themselves of. Words could not express how he hated that name.

Eventually he had learned to minimize the impact of the vultures and use the press to his, and the company's, advantage. All of his photos were carefully prepared for. His constant availability and legitimate press coverage had reduced the vulture attacks. Still, he had to admit to himself, one or two always managed to slip through.

He landed back at the Capsule Corp. labs and heard his mother yelling at one of his lead engineers about the engine modifications. Forgetting about everything that happened during lunch, he headed towards the labs. He would have to smooth things over before another engineer quit this week.

---

Goten looked at the general contractor standing next to him. They were pouring over the blueprints that were spread over the capsule table. "So we are agreed that you guys can live with these changes." After an affirmative response, he began rolling up the blueprints and handed them over. "Good. I'm leaving these with you and I'll be back out Monday morning."

He had thought about just going home but decided, instead, to walk down the street to the Pizza Parlor. On the way, he passed a newsstand which had all of the latest rags. He wondered which one, if any, would have the picture taken today. He really did not want to think about the story which would be run with it. He was about to turn away when the picture of Marron splashed over the front of one caught his eye. He picked it up and flipped through it. When he finally came across the story he stared. Marron stood outside of her office building smiling uncomfortably as she tried to avoid the cameras. Her clothing was top notch and her makeup perfect. With her mother's height and her long hair free she looked more like one of the models she was constantly dressing. Next to the first picture was another from the tournament in her gi. Her hair was up, her skin had a slight sheen of perspiration, and her eyes and smile lit up her face as nothing else could. She looked natural and confident and stunning, absolutely stunning. Scanning the other magazines, the dark haired man bought a copy of every one that had an article about the tournament.

Goten read the articles between trips to the pizza buffet. Sometime after the seventh trip he turned the page and there she was. "What the fuck?" What caught him off guard the most was that it was not a tournament picture. She was wearing pants that were at least a size too large and what had to be the ugliest floral shirt he had ever seen. Behind her, the buildings rose and towered. She was not looking at the camera. She probably did not even know it was there (that's what the vultures were best at.) Black eyes glared daggers at anyone who approached and her lip curled up into a snarl. Her hands were fisted and her tail was wrapped snugly around her waist and in plain sight. Goten scanned the caption to discover that the picture was taken in Blue Bush City. He quickly began scanning the other rags for pictures of the elusive Saiyan. There were none, but, there was other media he could check.

Everyone had had their ki sensors on high alert but only managed to receive brief, ten second flashes of power. They were just enough to remind everyone that she was alive but never long enough to pinpoint her location. Part of him berated himself for not thinking of the media sooner. He knew that Marron was being hounded for interviews and product sponsorship; not to mention the press. Every winner had been since Hercule retired. His mind on overdrive, he packed up the papers, paid his bill, and head back home.

TBC

Reviews Appreciated


	8. Of Food and Family

Disclaimer: see chapter 1

Chapter 8: Of Food and Family

Kuririn stood with his back against the wall and occasionally peeked around the edge of the doorway waiting for his wife to head to the other side of the sprawling kitchen. It was only 6:30 and his wife was already in full hostzilla mode. Eighteen was never the most domestic woman of his acquaintance but today she was moving stiffly around the kitchen while following the instructions of their neighbor on how to prepare a brisket for cooking. The silver haired woman sat at a table with a glass of tea prattling on about what ever it was that she found to talk about. His wife's comments were a series of monosyllabic sounds. He was afraid that, if seen, he would be stuck in the kitchen cooking and entertaining the ditzy grandmother with his wife. It was bad enough she was threatening to make him grill.

Eighteen was stressed out as it was, this being their first Z senchi bar-b-que to host. He really wasn't sure why. She could plan elaborate parties, down to the minutest detail, for clients and guests that went off without a hitch. He suspected that his wife was trying to one up both Bulma and ChiChi for the position of "Top Hostess." She simply did not realize how simple this party would be. Once the food hit the table, everyone would eat. Then there would be sparring to be had by all. No one would care if all of the cookies were shaped like fists and ki blasts or if the sauces were homemade or store bought.

Usually, the inn used its chef for large gatherings but he and Eighteen had made sure that, for the last week, the building remained empty of guests so that the family could attend the tournament and have this gathering without the questioning eyes of outsiders. The staff had been sent on paid vacation. Unfortunately, neither of the owners was prepared to cook for seven saiyan appetites; both having minimal cooking skills at best. Hence the need to call in the most successful hostess they knew; the inn's former owner, and their neighbor, Mrs. Hadley.

They bought the inn from her sixteen years ago with Eighteen's tournament winnings. The android had practically demanded it. He was prepared to move out of Master Muten's house as well since Marron was beginning to show signs that she would become the beauty that her mother was. He didn't want to expose his baby girl to the lascivious minds of either Oolong or his old sensei. His lovely wife, on the other hand, simply threatened to cut off body parts; even his if he didn't agree to move.

He took another glance around the doorframe and, noticing that her back was turned, rushed past the portal and into the dining room. As quietly as possible, he began moving the tables out of the way so that there would be room to dance if someone felt the need to cut a rug. He had just finished lining up the chairs and began to move outside to tackle the patio when the doorbell rang.

Kuririn looked at the watch on his arm in alarm. Nobody was supposed to show up until after noon. From the kitchen, he heard his wife's muffled exclamation as she banged a pot. He rushed by the door with a quick, "I'll get it."

Eighteen stepped out of the kitchen. "Tell whoever it is to come back after noon. Then get in here. I need your help." He heard Mrs. Hadley's voice float out chastising his wife for being rude to guests. The younger woman's mouth thinned and she stood there trembling before taking a deep breath, holding it for ten seconds, stilling her features, turning around, and moving back into the kitchen.

The ex-monk suddenly wondered about the moral implications of just ki blasting the person on the other side of the door. He was doing fine until the buzzer went off. He was going to set up the patio and then head upstairs to check on his daughter and make sure she was still sleeping well. Now he was going to have to smoke the stupid hunk of meat. He hated cooking. Grilling was Yamcha's thing, not his. He had enough trouble just looking into the large pit they borrowed from Chi-Chi without having to fly. Unfortunately, his buddy was out of town with his team and had sent his regrets. Maybe if he got lucky Seventeen would arrive early.

Kuririn tried to pull the door off the hinges as he opened it. On the other side was a young man of about twenty. He searched the features looking for whatever it was that made him seem familiar. It occurred to him that the young man was a fighter from the tournament. "Did Marron invite you here?"

The kids eyes got round as he looked down on the shorter man. He swallowed nervously and spoke, his voice shaking. "Um… No sir. I have your milk." The milk? It wasn't due to be delivered for another hour yet, and to the back door. Kuririn looked at the innocuous bottles of white liquid, noticing them for the first time. He then double checked his watch.

He was still confused, until he noticed the boy's fighting gi. He smirked as he collected the milk. "You know, you're running late. Don't tell Roshi I said this, but, if you take the road about half a mile that way you can shave thirty minutes off your route." He winked conspiratorially at the boy and sent him on his way. If only he could remember that kid's name.

"Kuririn!"

"Coming Dear."

---

Yamcha stared at the modest, unassuming entryway. A bamboo wind chime tinkled from somewhere behind the house. He bit his lip and took a steadying breath before approaching. From the other side of the door he heard a shouted "Come in Yamcha." He slowly opened the wood and glass slab and peeked around the frame. Sitting on the couch sat a lanky teenage boy actively playing Satan's Boudakai 4 on the video machine.

"Hey Aki, your mom home?"

"No, but, hold on a sec. I'm about 4 punches from beating Mighty Mask. Unless he does that split thing where he becomes two people." Just then, the two electronic fighters on the screen became three before the screen flashed red and gold with the words "Game Over." Aki tossed the controller onto the couch next to him. "Man, I hate it when he does that. I thought these people were supposed to be based on real fighters. I mean nobody can really do that." Yamcha bit his tongue, hard.

He leaned forward on the back of the couch and flipped the bill of the teen's ball cap. "Is your mom supposed to be back soon?"

"I wouldn't expect it. She went shopping with Maddy. You weren't supposed to be back until later tonight."

"After the loss I decided to head back real late last night. I was kind of hoping to surprise your mom. I tried calling this morning but I kept getting the out of area message so I came by."

"Yeah, mom's phone has been acting up. Bummer about that two run homer in the ninth. It's going to keep you out of the playoffs isn't it?" The scared man just shrugged. "So where were you going to take her?"

"I have a friend who is throwing a victory party for his daughter. I was hoping to introduce your mother. I thought you were supposed to be at the lake this weekend."

"I was but Dad canceled." Aki stood up and put the controller on the unit. He took off his cap and ran his fingers through the long hair. "I thought Mom knew all your friends by now."

"Not this group." Yamcha studied the boy then glanced at the screen, which was still signaling the end of the last game. With an almost evil smirk he asked, "Would you like to come with me?" The kid's eyes just got wide. "Good. Go call your sister's phone and see if you can get in touch with your mom. If she says it's OK, you can come." The teen was out of the room in a flash. Sometimes Yamcha really hated Ookami's ex-husband.

He looked around the living room. He loved the books and the clutter and the photos. The room, as well as the rest of the house rang with her laughter, her personality. It occurred to him how lucky he was that the Putz was too stupid to hold on to her. He thought back to the velvet box on his dresser and smiled. He heard a whoop coming from the kitchen followed by Aki practically skipping back into the room to and handing him the phone.

As soon as he held the phone up to his ear he heard the voice on the other end say, "I said he could go. Where is this?"

"It's a picnic being held at a little place called the Liushinkyu Inn on Woko Island. My friend Kuririn and his wife own the place. I promise he'll be back by midnight and in one piece. Hold on a second." He looked at the boy who stood on the balls of his feet biting his lower lip. "Go grab your swimsuit, an old t-shirt, and an old pair of sweats." The teen nodded his head quickly before leaving to gather his stuff.

"Thank you for taking him. I don't know what's wrong with his father. He said you wanted to bring me. I'm sorry. Are you at least still taking me to dinner on Tuesday?"

"Unless you back out on me."

"Are you going to tell me where?"

"No, that would ruin the surprise." He heard her sigh on the other end.

"Fine. Have him home by ten, not midnight. I'll talk to you when you bring him back."

"I'm looking forward to it. I love you."

"I love you too."

The sandy haired teen bounded back into the room with a bag and grabbed the phone away. "Sorry mom he's got to go. Bye." With that said he snapped the phone shut and pulled the older man out the door and locked it behind them. Yamcha just watched as the young man expertly put down the top of his convertible and climbed into the front seat. "So, what's this party for again?"

"My friend's daughter came in second at the WMAT."

Yamcha had never even seen Goku's eyes get that round. "The blonde? Dude, you know her? She is so hot. The guys are never gonna believe this."

As he pulled away from the street, the older man laughed and listened to his passenger ramble on about girls, sports, video games and school.

---

Bulma landed the small copter between a bright red convertible and Gohan's SUV. "I still don't understand why Trunks insisted on driving himself." Vegeta glared at her and made a sound deep in his throat. He had been trying to avoid the conversation the entire way over. She could tell that he knew the reason but she was still trying to figure out how to get it out of him. After work yesterday, the two disappeared into the gravity room for a few hours. When they reappeared, their clothes were still intact and neither looked as if they had broken a sweat. "I guess I'll ask him again when he gets here."

Vegeta dove into the back seat to assist Bra with her buckles. "You will not say anything to him woman. You will leave the boy alone. He's an adult, by your standards; he'll make his own decisions." Vegeta then turned around, allowing his daughter out, and handed his mate the cake she had made. She opened her mouth to reply when he interrupted. "Let it be. He has a right not to be driven by his parents." He reached back into the vehicle and pulled out Marron's gift before encapsulating the copter and following his daughter to the back.

Bulma looked down at the large sheet cake she made and began to head toward the building's courtyard. No offense to Eighteen, but Bulma seriously doubted that the blonde woman had made enough food. She knew how much Saiyans could eat. When she entered the yard, the android looked at the cake and smirked. "You can put that down on the table next to the large pot of noodles that Chi-Chi brought."

Bulma looked at the table full of food as she set down the cake. Apparently, she was wrong. "I love the cookies. The little fists are so cute."

"Thank you."

Bulma turned to join the assembled crowd and made her rounds. It seemed that Marron had picked up a fan; some teenager she had never seen before. When Trunks arrived, Vegeta caught her eye and frowned. Oh well, she would figure it out sooner or later. What was the use of being a genius if she couldn't? Instead, she chose to simply hug her son and remark how handsome he looked. Now that she thought about it… he did seem rather dressed up. If she didn't know better she would swear that the gi was new. She watched him walk over to Goten and give the secret handshake then hug Marron.

Vegeta walked up behind her and perched his chin on her shoulder. "I didn't ask him; although it's becoming apparent. We did good didn't we?"

"I'll tell you after this plays out."

"They're all so relaxed. The rest of us… it's tense. Eighteen is hovering. She may actually be more overprotective than you. And have you seen Yamcha? I think he's afraid the boys are going to break that poor boy."

"They do not know there is anything to be tense about, although Goten is being more quiet than usual. I took notes while Eighteen was raising Marron. And, if the brat doesn't leave Marron alone soon, Trunks **is** likely to break him." Bulma reached behind her back to quickly squeeze Vegeta's hand. She had never heard him admit something like that. Somehow his putting a voice to it made the issue all the more real. "I promised Kakarrot that I would spar with his student."

"Go. Put on a good show."

"Always."

TBC

Reviews Appreciated


	9. Of Old Age and Treachery

Disclaimer: I own neither Dragonball Z nor the song "Old Age and Treachery" by Willie Nelson and Waylon Jennings.

Chapter 9: Of Old Age and Treachery

Uub flopped down onto the grass next to Goten with a groan. Goku never hit that hard. He wasn't sure, but he suspected that Vegeta had anvils hidden in his gloves. Every inch of his body hurt. Suddenly, he had an entirely new respect for Goten and Trunks, they grew up with that and survived. The last combination blast sent him careening towards the ocean in an undignified belly flop which left pinpricks of pain over his front.

"Problems Uub? I believe I warned you to watch out for that combination."

The island boy rolled his eyes and looked around Goten at the purple haired demi saiyan. "If I could move I'd hit you. It was a whole lot easier to see from the ground." Uub's lips curled up into a full smirk. "Oh, and Trunks, he said you're next." He chuckled to himself as he looked back up and saw Vegeta, standing in the air with his arms crossed across his chest, tapping his foot on the non-existent floor.

He closed his eyes and let the ocean breezes cool him off. Beside him, Trunks pushed himself off the ground grumbling to himself about the pain he was about to be in. Marron said something about him being fine.

"So when are you heading home?"

Uub smiled wider. "Tomorrow, unless your mom succeeds in sabotaging my packing." He normally would not admit it but he was looking forward to going home. He liked the Sons, considered them family and Gohan and Goten his brothers, but it would be nice to see his relatives again. No offense, but Goku had a tendency to really loose track of time when he was enjoying himself or life in general.

"So you're going back to being an islander like me huh?" Marron had pushed into Trunk's spot. The teen turned and looked at her. It was hard to imagine her describing herself as an islander. She was so very blonde and pale. She just didn't fit the part. Everyone back home was dark skinned and dark haired.

Uub was able to sit up again as Gohan approached from behind with the girls in tow. "Hey guys. I brought food. Goten that's your stack and Uub," he reached up and removed the top platter off the second stack, "that's yours." He then plopped down on the grass next to them as the girls ran down toward the beach. After a stern warning for them to be careful he faced the youngest member of their group. "How did you fall for that combination? I don't spar with Vegeta often and I knew about it; Goten uses it all the time."

"No I don't!"

The blonde next to him laughed while saying, "Actually, you do. You're just not as good at it."

"Gee Marron, thanks. Glad to know you have faith in me."

"You're one of my favorite people. Of course I have faith in you."

Uub watched the match between father and son while eating and listening to his brothers and Marron joke around. He was actually a little shocked at how relaxed Gohan was after the way he looked last Thursday. "I hate to break up the fun guys but I'm going back up to the house to talk to Goku and let your mom fuss over my bruises."

"I'll walk with you. Otherwise my mom will start fussing because it's my party and I'm not circulating enough."

Marron skipped over to the pit and snagged a piece of meat off the tray. She rolled it around in her mouth as the juices slid down her throat. "Uncle Yamcha, you're my hero."

Yamcha laughed and smiled at her. "I'm not sure what I did but I'll take it." When she was a little girl she thought that her Uncle Yamcha was the cutest guy in the entire world and tried hard to get him to smile at her. She still took a small amount of giddy pleasure whenever he bestowed one, despite the creases in the corners of his eyes and around his mouth.

"Mom told dad he had to do the grilling."

"I heard. And if all it takes is non-burnt meat, you're right I am your hero. Although, I think you should set your standards higher."

"So," she swiped another chunk of meat, "When are you going to put on your gi and come spar with me."

"I wasn't."

"Oh come on. I'm tired of sparing with mom and dad. I'd ask one of the guys, but Vegeta has already started in on them; which means that they are already fighting full out and you know how hard it is to get a Saiyan to come back down to a normal level once they've started. And, Goku has already agreed to spar with Piccolo once he's done talking to Uub. That leaves… only… you. So go put on your gi."

"Marron…" Yamcha shot a meaningful glance at the teen sitting at the end of the picnic table talking with new fighter Roshi was still trying to corrupt.

"Oh come on. Come fight with me." She sounded whiney even to her own ears but it was her party and she should get to play too.

Next to Yamcha, Aki straightened up. "You know how to fight; like," he backed up and pointed up at the pair trading blows in the sky, "that?"

"Yes, he can; semifinalist in the World Martial Arts Tournament twice. He even has his own character on Satan's Bodukai I." She rounded back on the fighter in front of her. "And shame on you for not telling him." The young man's eyes widened as his glance moved between Trunks cutting a wedge in the ocean as he blocked his father's attack and the man he came with. "Aki, tell him that you want him to show off."

The blonde found herself fidgeting under the stare of her uncle, the scar on his cheek angry against the tan skin. He stopped and looked at Aki, his face softening. The teen just nodded.

After he changed, they took to the air where Yamcha opened with a frighteningly accurate punch. She took the first hit and managed to dodge the second as it came at her head. She began to counter. Unfortunately, she was never able to pierce his guard. Forty years of fighting and avoiding fast balls gave Yamcha a high preservation instinct. His style was also different from her father's. While the Kame House style was predominate, influences from both his early years and from Tien flavored his movements. He was also almost as aggressive as her mother, although less strategic. He seemed to fight by instinct alone. In general, she was thoroughly enjoying the fight.

Yamcha looped up and away from her last attack, putting some distance between them. His opponent took the opportunity to power up and let loose a stream of ki at him. As he deflected the blast, he ball player found himself huffing and wishing that he hadn't agreed to this. He looked at the girl and quickly considered his options as well as what she would be used to fighting. He sent out his own ki, shooting it off like his best curve ball. It hit Marron at threw her backward.

She grabbed her shoulder and tried to make herself smaller. She had heard that Yamcha was good with ki but she wasn't expecting that curve. She would have to get back inside his range. She charged him, only to be met with both of his fists in her stomach.

"I'm done," she squeaked out. She looked back up at him and noticed him panting and nodding before touching down.

When they reached the house, Yamcha threw himself into a chair with a groan. He was getting to old for this. "That is not fair Yamcha. I have to pull teeth to get you to train and you can still go up there and beat Marron."

"It wasn't that impressive Kuririn. That fight was just proof that old age and treachery always overcomes youth and skill."

"Will you teach me to do that Yamcha?" The ball player started and looked aver at the boy he brought with him. He wasn't sure what to tell him. Goku is always saying that they need to train the next generation of fighters, but did he really want to be responsible for shackling another person to the life he led?

From the other end of the table Roshi spoke up like a wizened sage, his glasses bobbing with each nod of his head. "With great power comes great responsibility. Learning to fight like that is a decision that should never be taken lightly."

For once, Yamcha was proud of his old teacher. At least until Videl pulled a shocked face and decked him.

Trunks walked up as Marron lowered her head and bit her lip. He suddenly felt that he missed something important. He reached out and touched her shoulder. "You OK?"

She looked at him sideways and smiled. "Yeah I'm fine."

He stepped back and held out his arm. Inside he was jumping when she moved to walk with him. He walked next to her silently for a while uncertain of what to say. "That was a really amazing fight."

"Yeah. Thanks. Though I still think I'm trying to find my stomach." Her hands fluttered to her waist and she began picking at her nails. They walked down the beach hearing nothing but the waves crash. "So Trunks…" He looked up into her eyes. She looked almost desperate. "Did I hear Goten mention something about a picture yesterday?"

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"Please. After the week I've had I'd love to hear somebody else complain about the press. I told Goten that my boss was threatening to start sniping them off from the fifth story window."

Trunks laughed at the image. Somehow it was fitting. He looked at the woman next to him and couldn't believe that this powerful woman was actually showing an interest in him.

Gohan watched his brother watch the couple walking along the beach.

"I'm happy for them. She's been interested in Trunks for a long time now. She'll be good for him; probably keep him grounded." The older demi saiyan wondered which one of them Goten was trying to convince.

The younger man's smile was genuine and his voice held no hint of a quiver. His breathing, however, seemed pained. His eyes locked on the pair and lingered a little overlong before his smile brightened and he turned back. "Besides, they look good together don't you think?"

Gohan wondered if Trunks even realized what he was doing to his friend. He assumed not.

"Gohan, would it be OK if I stopped by tonight?"

"Sure we don't mind. Although I've got to warn you Videl is threatening to make me go to bed early again tonight. Why?"

"I need to have you look at some research I've done. Tell me what you think."

"If it's about the ground underneath a site, I'm not…"

"It's not that. I just really need to talk it over with someone. You maybe even Dad, just get your opinion."

"Do you have it here?"

"No. It's a party. I didn't want to bring anyone down."

"Should I be worried?"

"I hope not." Gohan's face fell. His brother knew better than to use open ended statements like that around him. He hated statements like that. Hope, suppose, they were never good words. Someone always got hurt when those worse were bandied about. They sat in silence for a minute before Goten looked back up. "Wait a minute. Why is Videl **making** you go to bed early?"

"Apparently I haven't been sleeping." Goten looked at him carefully. "Don't worry, I got my full eight hours last night."

"Good. That means you're up to helping me bring down Dad."

"Do you want me to look at your research tonight?"

"Fine. Fine. I'll just go ask Pan. She's probably better than you anyway; younger, moves faster and all that."

As soon as his back was turned, Gohan pounced on his brother. Placing him in a headlock, he screamed into the sky.

Gohan sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea waiting for his brother and watching his wife move gracefully from one cabinet to another putting up the dishes she had started to wash before they left that afternoon. He would have helped but he had learned long ago that she was very particular about where things went and would spend even more time redoing his part.

On the other side of the room his daughter was dragging her feet with all the obstinacy that her twelve year old body could muster.

"Daddy, do I have to go to bed?" Funny, she always used "Daddy" when she wanted something. More recently it had been "Daaad, don't hug me in public" or "Daaad, that's for babies and I'm not a baby anymore."

"Yes Pan. It's late."

"Oh come on you two, let her stay up. It's not like she has school in the morning," Goten said as he strolled in.

Pan's face brightened. "Yeah! Like Uncle Goten said it's not like I have school in the morning. Besides Bra is the same age and she's allowed to stay up late." Both parents shot Uncle Goten an evil look.

"Young lady you know perfectly well that Bra is a year older and about to turn thirteen. Now get up those stairs and I don't want to hear another word about it."

"Whatever."

"Watch yourself young lady." Sighing, she looked at her husband. "How long are we going to have to put up with that attitude?"

"At least until she turns eighteen."

Videl rounded on her brother-in-law. "You're really not helping any Goten and you're going to spoil her."

The younger man just shrugged and grinned. "As the uncle it's my job. Besides, she'll still be asleep before you."

The dark woman's face hardened as she wielded her 'thawping spoon' (as Pan affectionately called the large wooden spoon that Videl used to smack hands that got too close to the food while it was cooking.) "Oh no. Gohan needs his full eight hours of sleep too. If you're going to keep him awake tonight, you are going to have to leave."

"I did warn you."

"Yeah, Videl, I know. But this is really important."

Gohan looked at his brother. "So, what do you have."

Goten pulled out the stack of papers from last night and handed the tabloid to his brother. The older saiyan looked at the cover and laughed. "This is your research? The Examiner? Surely you, of all people, should know that ninety percent of what's printed in here is complete lies."

Goten crossed his arms over his chest and held onto his chin. "Page 43. The words may be lies but pictures are still worth a thousand."

His brother raised his eyebrows before sighing. He pulled the 'If you say so' face and began flipping through the leaves of the newspaper. When he reached the instructed page, his face fell. "Kami! Videl can you go get Dad?"

She stopped and looked over his shoulder. "I'll be right back."

The older demi stood up and refreshed his tea mug. He placed another cup in front of his brother. "Got any coffee?"

"Videl threw it out when she decided I needed sleep." Goten made an understanding face and sipped the warm liquid. "So is the rest of that stack the same?"

"Yeah."

Videl walked back into the room. Her face was red and she just kept blinking. "I told your dad. Your parents were…"

"We don't need to know any more. Thanks Videl." Both men closed their eyes trying to block out the mental image.

"Your mom yelled at me. Your father went to get Vegeta."

Goten's eyes snapped open. "Oh shit!"

Ten minutes later Vegeta sat at Gohan's table, being swallowed by Gohan's robe, and glaring at Goku, who was stretching out one of Gohan's t-shirts. Goten sat between them, still experiencing the occasional twitch. Videl sat across from him trying not to look at either of the older Saiyans; she had noticed enough, despite being covered by their respective pajama bottoms, to realize that apparently it was a saiyan thing.

"So, are you going to tell us where she is or do we have to guess?"

"That's the problem. I don't know. The pictures and articles have her all over the place."

"So I was pulled away from my woman for nothing? What articles are you speaking of?"

Goten started pulling out the papers and explaining where he found them. Sources ranged from local newspapers to Martial Arts Magazine. "Generally, she is staying out of the cities. I checked with Marron and got the routing information from her tournament check. With that information I discovered that our visitor deposited hers to open an account at the Blue Bush Bank. Since then, she's made two small withdrawals on the account."

"Do I even want to know," Videl queried, "where you learned how to hack into a bank computer?"

"He learned it from Trunks. They've been hacking in Capsule Corps' since they were fourteen."

Goten looked up guiltily as Gohan glared at him. "Well it's not like that lasted long. Bulma built some kind of weird firewall we couldn't get around."

"Actually Bulma didn't. I did."

"Wow Vegeta, I'm impressed!"

"What? Did you think I was some brainless muscle like your father? Not that I need your approval, but thank you."

"How did you learn?"

Vegeta looked down at the paper he held in his hand and seemed to study it intensely. "Frieza's ship was paperless. You learned to protect any personal logs you didn't want him to see."

Goku looked at his friend as he tried to shrink out of existence for a second. He then looked down at the paperwork searching for a change in topic. "Is this the Police Beat?"

Videl leaned over and read the paper in Goku's hands. "Let me guess, it's the destruction of property."

"No that one is the missing cow." Goten rifled through the papers in front of him. "This one is the destruction of property."

"I'm going to get my laptop out of the other room. My old password still lets me into the SPD databanks."

"Goten, you don't have dates on half of this. Do we know what city she was in first? Videl while you're in there get me one of the global maps."

When Videl returned and began looking through files on her laptop, Gohan spread out the map. "Ok let's start with the bank account. It was set up in Blue Bush on what date?" Gohan circled the city on the map and looked up at his brother.

"Monday. What are you doing?"

"I'm mapping out her route. Didn't you learn anything in my class?"

"Yeah. I learned all about house types and that when you build a house you change the landscape." When Gohan glared at him he looked back down at the stack in front of him. "I have Bottleville on Wednesday."

Vegeta held up the piece of paper in his hands. "Some martial arts website says they spotted our little problem in Cut and Shoot on Wednesday."

Videl spoke up from behind the screen of her laptop. "I have an incident report from there. It says here that some guy broke both his hands and was thrown into his car during a solicited fight. No charges were filed against either party."

An hour later Gohan leaned way from the table and assessed the map. "The last report was here, at the edge of the desert. Since we don't have any reports from the other towns around it, my guess is she's crossing it. She's heading south at a fairly fast pace."

"So we don't know where she is?"

"No Vegeta, but we've at least narrowed it down to the big brown spot on the map."

"Actually, if she's on foot, she is probably staying near the mountains. That desert does not have a lot of oases."

"How do you know that, Kakarrot?"

"It's where we met Yamcha."

Silence screamed through the room. Until Vegeta sighed and asked, "Where is she headed?"

"I won't know for sure until she comes out the other side. Could be anywhere down there."

"Well this was a pathetic waste of time. Kakarrot, take me home." Goku looked up as Vegeta stood; his mouth working. "I'm not flying home dressed like this."

"But Vegeta, the only ki to lock onto is Bulma's and she's mad. She'll yell at me!" The prince crossed his arms over his chest and lifted a brow.

"Yes, and I'm looking forward to it."

TBC

Reviews Appreciated


	10. Of Phones

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

Chapter 10: Of Phones

Kuririn walked into the office where his wife was going over the accounts. He placed the papers he had in his hands on the corner of the desk. "The Talbots want to extend their stay through the weekend. And they want to keep the same room which means that we can't put the Akinos in there."

His wife looked up from her bankbook. "Actually it was the Bails and we'll just move them down the hall. They wanted an ocean view not necessarily a corner."

Kuririn sat down and regarded his wife's face. He envied the way she so calmly and quickly fixed problems. She seemed so dispassionate to the uninformed observer. Kuririn, however, knew better.

Sometimes he felt guilty about the jobs that she handled since they opened the inn but it really was an even split. She handled the technical side (planning, money, and booking) while he managed the staff and worked with the guests once they arrived. She looked better on brochures and press releases but Kuririn had better people skills. They were two sides to the same coin.

At his small sigh, Eighteen turned her head to the side, crooked her finger at him and smiled. She stood up as he glided over to the desk. Upon reaching it, she leaned across and kissed him on the cheek. The simple gesture heated his face and made him remember how lucky he was that he was able to win her heart in the end.

The first time she kissed him the world opened up. It was just a peck, a single, insignificant, meeting of lips and cheek, nothing really. Yet that nothing changed his view more than death, his friendship with Goku, his breakup with Marron, anything. That moment taught him compassion. She could have killed him. She probably should have. A single touch and he would have been back in Otherworld. He was powerless to stop her. Instead, she kissed him and he finally discovered life's purpose.

"You know the guests are through for the night, there's no daughter in the building, and that door locks."

Kuririn smiled and, being the smart guy he was, took the hint and locked the office door. When he turned around, the private line rang. Eighteen glanced at it sourly before picking it up, barking out a terse intro.

"This had better be good." The fighter watched as his wife's sculpted eyebrows scrunched together. "Marron," she said. She listened to the other end a little longer before dropping the phone and streaking out the window.

A father cautiously picked up the phone and held the receiver to his ear. He listened to the conversation on the other end with growing horror. He looked longingly at the open window telling his self that he would not be useful in the situation. Eighteen was enough firepower and, judging by the look on her face as she left, she was more than ready to use it.

---

Vegeta sat in front of the computer screen searching sites. Most of the information was about Marron. That wasn't surprising. Marron was more accessible and much prettier.

These humans always did have their priorities in the wrong place. Then again, Bulma never seemed to understand his. Many of the stories portrayed Marron as the golden girl, the child of goodness and light whose parents were both famed martial artists. In contrast, the problem was depicted as the evil slow brute who stole the championship right out from under Marron.

Vegeta fully admitted that the stories smacked of truth. However, he resented the implied references to cheating. No respectable Saiyan would cheat to win, fight dirty maybe, but not cheat. For the umpteenth time in the last two weeks Vegeta found his self torn; still trying to decide if he should be offended.

Vegeta continued to move through the sites when he came across one site hosting pictures that made the past three days in front of the stupid monitor worth while, fortunately because his rear was beginning to hurt. The first picture contained Nappa, airborne and smirking, ki blast in hand. His tail was wrapped tightly around his waist but still in plain view. The second showed the problem stretching her tail out and smirking at Marron as if she were the only one privy to some sick joke.

Two pictures displayed Kakarrot as a child. In the first, he wore that horrible orange thing. His hair was wild but he hung over the pure white tiles of the arena floor with a fat brown tail wrapped around the arm of some green creature. The other had Kakarrot facing an opponent that looked mysteriously like a younger Roshi. The main difference between this and the last was that he stood thirty feet tall; hair, muzzle, teeth, and red eyes. Vegeta smirked over the image. He wanted to print it out and store it in a scrapbook somewhere to look at on a bad day. The idea of Kakarrot actually being in touch with the one thing that was purely saiyan made him smile.

The last picture proved the most useful, however. Some Bubba was standing next to his truck with his ball cap pulled down over his eyes. In his hands was a slip of paper with strange symbols printed on it. The looked like basic geometrics with lines coming off of and through. To anyone else they would simply be a series of well drawn scribbles. To the Saiyan prince, however, they were perfectly readable; Mar Negi Seloli (Seloli daughter of Negi). He began to read the article trying to ignore the fact that some human had put it together. The author's opinions would simply be dismissed as conspiracy theory and the author thought of as simply one of those nuts who believed in aliens. Instead, he concentrated on the important information. It seemed that the problem had managed to hitch a ride to Fire Cliff in return for her signature.

He sat back and rubbed his hand over his chin before reaching for the phone and calling Gohan. After sharing his information, he closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the chair while he waited for the hybrid to figure out the map.

"Well Vegeta," the voice on the other end sounded weary. "Best guess? I'd say South City. It's the biggest dot on her trajectory."

"What would she want there?"

"I don't know. But at the pace she's been traveling I'd say she wants it pretty badly. I'll have Videl keep an eye on the crime reports from there."

"I want her found."

"You're not the only one. Look, I've got a student coming in I'll talk to you later."

"Fine." After Gohan hung up, Vegeta rubbed his wrists before pulling out the keyboard tray and searching for South City.

Every so often, Trunks would walk by and stick his head in the door, worried about his father. Vegeta rarely became this involved in a project other than training. Even when his father proofed programs for himself or Bulma he did so with an easy nonchalance. But for the past three afternoons in a row, the older man had glued himself to the computer screen. So the younger prince guarded the entrance to the study and watched his father rub at his wrists between flipping screens until the flame haired man acknowledged his presence without ever turning away from the screen.

"What do you want boy?"

"Mom sent me to tell you that dinner was ready."

"I'll be right there."

Vegeta turned off the computer and stood up. "Father, are you OK?" Upon hearing the question, he regarded his son; watching him with a feral intensity.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Trunks just glanced at the spot where his father kept trying to pull up on the gloves he wasn't wearing. Vegeta suddenly released his arms. "I'm fine," he barked out as her pushed past his heir on his way to the kitchen

Trunks followed his father from his office. His father's back was ramrod straight and he walked stiffly without swinging his arms. Every so often he would flex his fingers; sweeping them out one by one and bringing them back into a fist. "So did you ever get your engine working?"

Trunks stopped in the hallway and allowed his brain to process the fact that he had just been asked a question. He then had to take a few long strides to catch back up. "Yeah, we even got it into the plane and tested the entire thing yesterday. And today, I flew it to South City and back."

The short prince stopped so suddenly that, even with Trunks' reaction speed, he almost ran into him. "South City?"

"Yeah, I know the plane was not tried, and something could have happened on a trip that long, but it's not like I'd get hurt if something did go wrong."

Vegeta grabbed Trunk's shirt on both fists to haul his son in closer. The demi-Saiyan felt the collar pull at the back of his neck and felt the tickle of fear run down his spine. "Why South City?"

Trunks tried to pull back. He didn't like the flash flood of anger that appeared in his fathers eyes. For the first time in his life, he was actually afraid of Vegeta. "I surprised Marron for lunch."

"Marron's in South City? Shit!" The prince abruptly released his son with a small push as he once again pushed past him, this time heading back to the small office. He stopped at the open portal and turned back towards the boy. "Call her; find out if she's safe. Tell her to go back to her parent's house. Or better yet, tell her to come here."

"Father, what's going on?"

"Just do it!" The prince stormed back into his office and grabbed the phone from the desk.

---

Marron leaned back against the door to her apartment with a groan. Home was such a wonderful place to be; not her parent's house, but hers. It was nice to be coddled by her mom but having her father constantly want to talk and ask if she was ok was beginning to wear thin on her nerves. At least here in here own loft she could feel more like a human being, a responsible adult, and less like a weakling who almost died. Her parents were not intending to make her feel that way but that is what happened.

Leaving the lights off, she kicked off her shoes and threw her keys on the small table next to the door. Pushing away from the door, she slipped off the suit coat and padded through the apartment in her stocking feet. She entered the kitchen and threw open the refrigerator door, the light causing an eerie glow. Inside it was empty. Something must have happened during the last week which caused the neighbor to throw everything out. She'd ask her about it tomorrow. In the meantime, dinner would just have to be take out from that Chinese restaurant Goten had gotten her addicted to. What a pity. It would take them thirty minutes but she really wasn't that hungry after lunch.

Trunks arrived at her at her office with flowers and taken her out to a fancy four star restaurant in town that was meant to impress. The restaurant intimidated her at first causing her to long for the backwater holes in the wall that she usually frequented and took great pleasure in introducing others to. Others consisted mainly of Goten; who was always a connoisseur of eateries that prepared good, cheep food in large portions. She began to squirm even more when Trunks leaned forward and removed the pencil from behind her ear. Could there have possibly been anything more embarrassing. However, her lunch partner simply smiled and used the opportunity to begin asking her questions about her work. They spent the remainder of the hour together talking about training and her job. Overall, the food was good and the company even better.

She fumbled with the phone in the dark. Moving to the living room, she hit the light switch and screamed.

She sat in the overstuffed estate sale find on the other end of the room. Her head was cocked to the side and she regarded Marron with unflinching eyes. "You are out of food," she said.

Marron looked around the room. The other girl never moved, just sat in the chair like a statue. "I noticed. What are you doing here? How did you even get here?"

"To see you. I ran, people brought me." She shrugged as if to say it was no big deal.

"How did you find me?" If that wasn't the stupidest question she had ever asked.

"Your people put too much data in your machines. Once I figured out how to make it work, it was easy finding what I was looking for."

Marron closed her eyes and swallowed. Her fingers gripped the phone harder. Opening her eyes, she looked down and saw the white plastic device in her hand. She had completely forgotten that she had it in her hands. Moving very slowly, she ran her thumb over the keypad. She continued to caress the buttons before pressing and holding down one of the keys long enough to activate the speed dial.

She looked at the Saiyan sitting on the other end of the room. She sprawled out in the chair while seeming to contemplate the fresh lacerations on her hand. Dark eyes, however, continued to cast glances toward their "host" out of the corners.

"Why were you looking for me? What do you want?" Marron was not sure that she wanted to know the answer but it seemed the only thing to do, to ask.

The older woman switched her regard completely to her as the repressed "Mona Lisa" smile replayed itself on her face. Her eyes lit up like a cat playing with a defenseless mouse. "Why do you think I am here?"

Marron was tiring of this game. Every muscle in her body seemed to go into high alert. She took a deep breath and tried to relax herself. They both knew why she was there. "You are here to kill me. You tried to at the tournament but didn't; although I'm not sure why. Either way, you're here to finish the job."

Something Marron said must have been vastly amusing. Seloli began laughing, a hearty laugh that shook her shoulders. She caught her breath and leaned forward, elbows on her knees. All traces of amusement fell off her face as she spoke. "You tried to grab my tail. For that, you should to die." Marron could have sworn she felt her heart stop as said tail slid lazily to lay exposed over the arm of the chair and thumped against the side. "But, had I killed you, they would not have let me win. I did not come this far to lose. You should not worry about it now. You have something I want."

Marron blinked. What on earth could she possibly have? Her confusion must have shown because the other woman smirked. "The beam cannon. I want to learn that beam cannon. You are going to teach me."

Marron felt her jaw drop as the phone clattered to the floor. The Kamehameha? She had to be joking. "I can't teach you that." The statement came out more breathless than Marron intended.

"You know it." Her reply was three little simple words. More of a statement than a question but their delivery made them the three hardest words the blond woman had ever heard. This girl could give her mother a run for her money when it came to lack of emotion.

Fortunately, Marron had been taking lessons. Despite the tremble in her lips her reply was smooth. "But I have only been seriously training for two years. I'm not in any position to teach anything." Hopefully, the intruder into her life would buy that.

At a lift of an eyebrow as if to say "you are now useless and I should kill you" Marron quickly rethought her strategy. She hadn't really though of that possibility. It might be best to keep her happy. "Goku might be willing to work with you."

"Is that who taught you?"

Marron took a few steps into the room and perched on the arm of the sofa. "Well, no my parents..."

"Then why would you send me to this Goku?" Seloli's voice got louder as she leaned forward and glared with just enough force to put some metal in Marron's spine.

Her voice also took on a hint of steel. "For starters, he's Saiyan."

Marron fell from her perch into the cushions of the sofa as the Saiyan girl stood up. "Krito. Habba cofot breg Saiya-jin?"

Seloli stood above her glaring down. Her hair actually stood up straighter and the tail lashed around behind her as it knocked pictures off a side table. And, she seemed to want an answer to whatever it was that she asked. Marron actually recognized the last word so she supposed that the question was about Saiyans.

"Yes, I know them."

"And I suppose you will tell Raditz where to find me?" Marron sat there trying to figure out who exactly she was talking about. Seloli held out her hand at bout the height of her chin. "Raditz. Short little tailless gi-tdor. First Class." She then stroked her neck, where Marron could see the last traces of bruises, and looked away. "Good grip."

Marron was spared from having to answer by the sound of glass shattering and Seloli being knocked through the wall and into the hallway.

Seloli coughed trying to re-inflate her lungs as the older version of Marron advanced on her, blue light crackling in her palm. She watched as well as the younger grasped the elder's arm. "Mom she wasn't trying to kill me. She wanted me to train her."

Eighteen looked at her daughter without releasing the gathered energy at her fingertips. "Train?"

"Yeah, I told her she should ask Goku."

The android contemplated the girl on the floor, who was wiping blood from her mouth and watching the energy blast with trepidation. "Goku already has a student. Four hundred dollars a month. That will provide you with a place to stay and training with me. It will not pay for your food. I've seen a saiyan eat and I'm not paying to feed you. You will follow my rules and those of my husband or I will kill you. Do you understand?"

The saiyan just nodded, eyes never leaving the energy ball in the older woman's hand.

"Good. Get your stuff. The further away you are from my daughter, the happier I'll be." Eighteen dissolved the blast and turned her back. The dismissed girl glared at her but slowly pushed herself off the floor and moved through the room to collect her bag. After all, she was getting what she came for.

Marron waved off her mother's worries. She then leaned in closer and lowered her voice. "Mom, there is something you should know. She thinks Vegeta's name is Raditz. I don't know why."

Eighteen looked at the girl. Goku had called Vegeta "Raditz" at the tournament. Perhaps this girl was why. Introducing himself as someone else was out of character for the Saiyan prince. As much as Eighteen did not like the short Saiyan she admitted he wasn't stupid. If he did something it was for a good reason. Therefore, far be it from her to enlighten the problem she was taking home. She watched the woman stand there with her bag over her shoulder and smirked. And why not, it wasn't every day that one had someone one loathed pay them to beat her up on a daily basis.

Somewhere, on the other end of a phone line, that lay forgotten on the floor, an ex-monk fainted.

TBC

Reviews Appreciated


	11. Of Brewing Storms

Disclaimer: Still own nothing. Beta Kudos go to Bardockgurl.

Chapter 11: Of Brewing Storms

Yamcha ran his hands through his hair and swallowed. Air moved painfully in and out of his lungs as the silence persisted. He glanced at the woman who sat across from him, still trying to process the story of his violent youth, and took another sip of his water. She sat there, her mouth slightly open, just looking at the table cloth. The ball player watched, and waited, and fidgeted while looking for any reactions coming from her as to what he had just told her.

He hadn't been sure how he was going to tell her. He simply knew he had to before … So, for the last couple of days he had been rehearsing that speech over and over. If he had taken her to the party, talking to her about his life would have been easier. But he hadn't and all he could do was hope for the best. Tonight wasn't even supposed to be about this. Tonight was supposed to be about candlelight, and diamonds, and them. The small velvet box burned a hole into his skin from the inside pocket of his suit coat as he agonized over whether he would even be able to give her the contents.

After he brought Aki home the boy's exuberance for the day had caused some tension between Ookami and himself. The young man had bounded into the house and proceeded to tell his mother, in fully embellished glory, about whom he met, and the flying, and the fighting, and that Yamcha agreed to teach him. He most certainly had not consented to that. Apparently, opening the subject up for discussion was like handing a stick of dynamite to a pyromaniac and telling him not to light it. He would never forget the accusing glare in his girlfriend's eyes as she quietly told him that he needed to leave. When he called all they did was argue. It took some convincing, but she had agreed to keep their date tonight so that they could "talk." She needed to know that he didn't want to train Aki and why.

He also couldn't propose with the storm clouds over their relationship. He shifted in his seat again and the edge of the box dug into the muscle of his chest painfully.

"You're breaking up with me aren't you?" Yamcha's eyes snapped up to look at her. She held her head low and there were tears glistening in the corner of her eyes. Where on Earth would she have come up with that idea? Her lips quivered and she took a steadying breath. "Why else," she paused for another deep breath and closed her eyes. She opened her eyes and addressed him, "would you tell me that unbelievable story if you weren't trying to scare me off?"

Relief, fear, he wasn't sure which one stole the breath from him; probably both. "He reached over the table top and placed his hand over hers. Squeezing them, he smiled up at her. "Ookami, I'm not breaking up with you."

"Then why?"

He took a breath and allowed the awkward silence to continue as he organized his thoughts. "I never told anyone else all of that; at least no one who hadn't also lived through it." He paused and ran his thumb over the scar on his cheek. Ookami sat back in her chair with her arms crossed across her chest and her mouth tight. Biting the bullet, he reached into the inner pocket of his sport coat, fingers fumbling over the opening. "I thought you should know about it before..." He lightly clenched his fist around the silver velvet box he held before withdrawing it and placing it on the table in front of her.

She reached out hesitantly and touched the box with her fingers, a caress. He stood up and knelt down next to her. Opening the box he pulled out the ring and slipped it onto her left hand. "I want you to marry me. I don't want your answer now. You should think about what I've told you about my life before you make that decision."

She looked at him and traced the scars on his cheek with her fingertips. "Of course I'll marry you," she said before leaning forward to lay a kiss on his mouth. He closed his eyes and reveled in the feel of her lips pressed against his.

Yamcha opened his eyes and smiled against her lips when he realized that the tinkling of silverware and the low murmur of conversation had been replaced with applause and catcalls. Ookami began giggling and Yamcha looked around the room, red faced, at the smiling faces. "She said yes!" he announced as he stood up and retook his seat.

She looked at him sideways without ever releasing his hand. "You said you wanted me to think about what you said. Does that mean its true? All of it?"

"Yes." He watched the emotions cross her face as she reabsorbed the tale as truth this time. He watched her eyes dim as she arrived at a more distressing conclusion.

"If something happened, something threatened, would you still go?"

He closed his eyes and thought about lying to her but he had been forthright so far. "If I thought I could help, yes."

"And if you were wrong?"

"I'd probably be dead again with no chance of coming back." She slid her hand from his. Yamcha closed his eyes and swallowed around the dry lump in his throat. Any moment now he would hear a snap and feel the box being pushed toward him.

"And this is what you said you'd teach my son?" His eyes popped open; widening into saucers as he looked at her. The change of subject was so abrupt that he did not know what to do with it.

"I never said that. I'd told him we would discuss it. That discussion included you." She glared at him and rolled her eyes. "I really don't want to teach him. I was hoping that we'd be able to talk him out of it. Or that with some distance he would decide that he didn't want to."

"I was afraid of that. Have you met my son Yamcha? He's not going to let it go." She sighed and fell back into the chair. "He's wanted to learn since he was eight. But with three kids and less than regular child support payments, I could never afford it."

"So if you're not against it, why have we been fighting for the past three days?"

"Well, there were other reasons I never quite had the money. I wasn't too happy about the violence. And don't you dare compare what you just told me to him achieving a black belt. He still hasn't shut up about men flying and shooting light out of their hands. I thought he had just watched too much "Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon." Besides, you don't want to. I could see it all over your face the other night. I didn't want to see the disappointment in his eyes when you didn't follow through."

Yamcha decided right then and there to kill the putz. He also had a problem. He didn't want to teach the kid. He supposed he didn't mind teaching Aki the basics but he did not want to go farther than that. He leaned forward, placed his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his hands together. His fingertips traced the calluses blanketing his palms.

---

Goten sat straight up in bed. He listened around the room searching for whatever it was that pulled him away from some rather enjoyable dreams. If he found them he was going to rip their heads off. Holding his breath, the only thing he heard in the darkness was the gentle ticking from the mantel clock in the other room.

When his immediate senses failed to pick up anything, Goten caught a sigh of relief. He rolled over in the sheets and reached for the phone when he felt Marron's ki flare around her and the pounding on his door began again. He flopped down on his back with a groan and rubbed his face before rolling himself out of bed and began rooting around on the floor looking for his discarded pants and a t-shirt.

He had found his pants but gave up on the shirt as the pounding continued. He yanked open the door and was attacked by a lovely blonde. Suddenly, those dreams were not nearly as enjoyable. Unfortunately, she was crying. He stepped back and looked at her.

Her hair and cheeks were wind torn from her flight over and her eyes were red. He led her into the room. He put her on the side chair and sat on the edge of the coffee table. Clasping her hands, he leaned forward. "Marron, why don't you tell me what's wrong."

She wiped at the tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I must look like a mess. I thought I was going to be OK but with the hole in my wall and the realization that someone got into my flat that easily… I couldn't stay there. Can I crash here tonight? I'd go home but Mom brought her there and I…" She trailed off shrugging apologetically.

Goten had no idea what she was talking about. Whatever it was had shaken her badly. "Of course you can but, Marron, perhaps you should start at the beginning. Who broke into your apartment and why is there a whole in the wall?"

"Seloli. She was there when I got home from work."

"Who?"

"The girl from the tournament. I really thought I was going to die."

Goten wrapped his arms around her and hugged her to his chest as the sobs restarted. Suddenly things began falling into place. Power built in his stomach then began pulsing through his veins. So this was how Gohan felt when he got angry. He shushed her softly while rubbing soft circles on her back.

He set to spreading out his ki in search. In response, he received the position of almost everyone in his extended family, awake and moving about in a similar fashion. However, it was the unfamiliar ki that caught his attention.

He focused on the new ki. It was moving … east, toward the islands. He felt Vegeta take off after it. Trunks was somewhere between West Capital and South City. He had stopped, clearly oscillating between moving forward and turning east. Obviously he wasn't paying attention to any of the other kis in the area because he continued on. Both Goku and Gohan left their homes shortly afterwards.

He was slightly disappointed that he wouldn't be joining in on the fun but Marron was more important. When she collected herself again and pulled away Goten studied her face. She was extremely pale and her eyes constantly shifted. "You haven't eaten have you? You're dizzy." She looked at the floor and shook her head. "I'm going to fix you something to eat. When I get back we'll talk OK?" She simply nodded.

As he walked past her, she grabbed his arm. "Thank you." He nodded at her and she let him go. His chest clenched at the vulnerability in her eyes and the tear stains drying on the plains of her cheeks. He padded quickly into the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. The bitter smell wafted throughout the room, the familiar scent relaxing him and reminding him why this was his favorite drink. He then turned and set about making a sandwich for his guest.

When the phone rang Goten snagged it off the hook knowing who it was. "Yeah Trunks that's her ki. She's here."

"Thank Kami. When I saw the hole in the wall I got worried. So you know what happened?"

"Not all of it. She's a little shaken up but otherwise whole. How bad is the wall?"

"It looks like someone was thrown through it. I'll block it off tonight and call someone in the morning to get it fixed."

"I'll take care of it. You'll just end up putting out too much money. There's a contractor down there that likes me anyway. I'll tell you what you can do though. Follow your father to the inn. Find out what that bitch thought she was doing."

---

The wind was beginning to pick up as Eighteen landed on the lawn with a light tap. She then turned and smoothed her hair, despite the wind, as she waited for the woman following to land also. The saiyan landed with less grace as she flinched when the waves crashed and rolled against the beach. Through the glow of the porch light Kuririn could see her gaze move between the waves and the sky.

Kuririn's wife crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her gaze and the younger woman smiled at the sky and let her tail slip down to brush at her ankles. "They already know you're here. I expect one if not both of them to be showing up shortly."

The tail stiffened and wrapped itself around her leg. "She contacted them."

"She didn't need to. They knew where you were the moment you started flying." Eighteen turned and looked at him before climbing of the steps of the back porch. "Follow me. We'll get you settled in before they arrive."

The saiyan continued to stare at the sky. The waves crashed against the both the beach behind her and the cliffs on the side of the inn drawing her attention back to the water as she sidestepped away from both. Eighteen turned and looked at he girl and barked out, "NOW!"

The girl turned and glared at his wife with a small sneer, glared at Kuririn too and he felt the icy grip of fear grab hold of his heart. She assessed him for a moment and her sneer was replaced by a neutral expression he could not fully read. In the background, waves once again broke upon the craggy cliff. The muscles under the fur on her tail rolled as she stomped her feet on the firm ground, resettled the bag on her shoulder, and finally moved to follow his wife.

He followed them inside and up the stairs. Eighteen spoke the entire trip relaying the "Rules" in a very ordinary fashion. She stopped at the door next to Marron's room. Separated from the rest of the inn; a room that was empty and never rented out; a room that they had hoped to fill with another child one day before they had finally given up hope. It turned out that Gero's implants into his wife did not leave her with the room to carry a child to term. Marron was something of a miracle. Eighteen eventually turned it into a guest room for the family; more often than not Seventeen's when he was there.

The girl asked something of his wife and she answered. He didn't really pay attention though. He looked around the sparsely decorated room. The masculine scent of freshly chopped wood and forest that seemed to follow his brother-in-law everywhere these days still clung to the baseboards. He watched the intruder stand awkwardly in the center of the guest room, his son's room, as she inspected it and answered his wife with monosyllabic sounds to let her know that she was still listening. She looked rather unimpressed and he shivered with the sudden draft that came through. The girl turned and looked down on him, her mouth twitching.

Eighteen touched him on the shoulder and he followed her out the room, without closing the door, and down the steps. When they reached the landing again he continued on into the kitchen and poured himself a shot of whiskey. Eighteen frowned at the strong odor as he downed it. He leaned his elbows on the island and rolled the empty glass between his fingers. Outside, the wind caused the old Victorian inn to creek.

His wife watched him noting the tension in his jaw and shoulders. "What? You have wanted to say something since I got back. Spit it out already."

"There is a murdering alien in our guest room and you brought her here. She's dangerous. You should have just killed her. It would have saved us some time later."

The blonde woman rolled her eyes and sighed. She then looked at him impassively and quirked an eyebrow upward as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Your daughter didn't want me to."

"I don't care. That "woman" upstairs went after Marron. Perhaps it doesn't matter to you much, but I don't like the idea of gathering Dragon Balls so that I can wish my daughter back to life." Kuririn felt his own ki gathering and had to force himself to lower it before they had to remodel the kitchen, again. "And if you hadn't gotten there when you did, that's exactly what we'd be doing."

"This is exactly why she is here instead of South City; where I can keep an eye on her and keep her away from Marron."

"But you can't watch her the entire time. We have a business, an inn, guests whose safety we're responsible for."

"So you'll help."

The short monk blinked and looked at the woman. Was she nuts? "Honey, this is a Saiyan we are talking about."

"So is Vegeta, I seem to remember breaking him in half."

"You're more than welcome to try it again if you think you still can." Kuririn looked up at the dark voice that invaded the room. Vegeta stood in the doorway behind the android with his feet spread and his arms crossed over his chest. The short fighter let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps his highness could talk some sense into his wife.

TBC

Reviews Appreciated


	12. Of Uncomfortable Answers

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

Beta kudos go to Bardockgurl, for at least trying (It's not her fault computers are evil), Debbiechan, and ilex9. Without these three wonderful women this chapter would never have seen the light of day. Thank you to Goten's Fan for knocking on my computer screen and making sure I hadn't died.

Chapter 12: Of Uncomfortable Answers

Piccolo stood at the entrance of the inn's cavernous kitchen. With Kuririn pacing back and forth constantly asking if he needed anything, the wall by the door seemed the safest place to plant himself. The Namek watched the other man's nervous twitching with narrowed eyes. Humans moved too much for his taste. The kitchen's size should have accommodated everyone nicely since it usually served, over a hundred guests daily. However, the ki, as well as the stance and posture of those occupying the room ate up all the available space; effectively constricting the room like a giant rubber band wrapped around a sponge.

Son grinned at him from around a large sandwich before returning his stare to Vegeta and trying to gain the other Saiyan's attention. Piccolo could not decide if Vegeta purposefully ignored the younger alien or if Goku's attempts simply failed to gain the other's notice. Gohan sat next to Son at the table preoccupied with enjoying the mug of coffee that Kuririn placed before him, his expression almost devotional as he inhaled the caffeine laden concoction. Piccolo grimaced. He thought he had taught the boy to be more alert than that.

Kuririn paced in front of him again, and he ground his teeth. The rain had finally started and prevented his escape back outside. He attempted meditation but, with all the thumping coming from upstairs as Eighteen and her guest argued, he was unable to find his center.

Trunks entered the room shaking his head to clear the water from his hair and causing Piccolo to rethink his position by the door as the water pelted him in the face. Why couldn't these beings just learn to be still like Vegeta?

The oldest of the four Saiyans stood amid the activity glaring at the door as if that action alone would conclude the argument above them and cause the girl to appear. Only Piccolo's own entrance distrupted the single minded staring at the portal. The diminutive prince skimmed his eyes over the taller form before snapping, "Why are you here? This doesn't concern you."

Piccolo didn't really know how to answer that question. Vegeta had a point. However, he lived on this planet and assumed responsibility for the safety of its people and his … friends? He did have a right to be here. He earned that right. Besides, the old man kept screaming from the back of his mind that anything that transpired here tonight had importance. You would think that he was still Guardian of the Earth for all the carrying on he did. Ignoring the old man had become easy enough but, one look at Dende's worried countenance sent him over the edge of the Lookout on a course for this island. Damn kid.

From upstairs, a loud thump resounded down the hallway, followed by a few uneasy moments of silence. The heavy sound of a single set of feet rang down the stairs before Eighteen entered kitchen, kicked a chair out from under the table, and dropped the burden on her shoulder onto it. The woman slid spinelessly off until the android snatched the back of her shirt to lift her back into the chair. Upon being released, the saiyan slumped gracelessly over the arm. When she no longer threatened to slide off again, Eighteen stepped back and looked at the assembled crowd.

"Well, get on with it. I want to go to bed sometime tonight."

Trunks stalked forward and squatted in front of the still female. His hair cascaded forward as he swiveled his head to the side to look at her face. He reached up and poked her in the shoulder. When the action only shook her a little, he looked up at Eighteen and stated the obvious. "She's unconscious."

Eighteen blinked, staring blandly at the half saiyan. "And?"

Vegeta glared at Eighteen and motioned towards the unconscious female. "How am I supposed to get any answers out of her when you've already knocked her out?"

"You told me to bring her down here. I did that. The rest is your problem."

Vegeta rolled his head back and released a low guttural sound. "Trunks, back away from the girl."

Trunks turned towards his father, confusion marring his features, before backing up. Everything else seemed to happen in slow motion. Vegeta stretched his arm out in from of him extending his index finger. The rubber band around the room constricted more as the Saiyan prince smirked and pushed his ki to the finger's point. The faint smell of ozone permeated the air as the small blast glowed around the skin before expelling itself. A light purple beam streaked laggardly through the air towards the girl's head.

Son jumped up, knocking over his stool, and reached for Vegeta. A look of horror came over his face. He stuttered, trying not to call the other saiyan by name. Eighteen had informed them of the woman's previous assumptions. Vegeta directed them, without any further explanations, to let the girl keep them.

The Saiyan woman's nose twitched and her eyes snapped open. She sat upright and forcefully knocked the annoyingly small amount of ki away. The blast moved off to the right and crashed into a sideboard on the far side of the room, destroying it.

Son stopped short of Vegeta. "You could have killed her."

"Don't be ridiculous Kakarrot. That was barely enough ki to sting."

Eighteen looked distraughtly at the wreckage. She rounded back on the arguing pair. "That was an antique!"

Vegeta turned to the blonde woman with widening eyes. When she simply gave him a lifted eyebrow, he sighed. "I'll buy you a new one."

"Fine. But it had better be of the same quality."

The newly awakened woman used the momentary distraction to remove herself from her chair and begin to leave the room. Piccolo sidestepped between her and the door, baring his teeth. He allowed his fangs to gleam in the light. Fangs, he noted, that were larger than even the Saiyans'. She took a step back. "Going somewhere?" Grabbing her by the shoulders, he spun her around and pushed her farther into the room. "Sit."

She glared at him over her shoulder before flopping in her chair and balancing on the rear two legs. Vegeta's eves roved over the girl then shifted toward him. They shared a conspiring smile. Over the last few years, they developed an unusual friendship. His time working with Trunks and Goten earned him Vegeta's respect as a sensei and had later allowed Vegeta to tolerate his presence. From there, similarities in temperament led to a mutual understanding of each other and their boundaries. Piccolo still considered Vegeta a rough son of a bitch at times but, generally, they got along.

The girl noticed the exchange and shot an evil glances at him, as he blocked the door, and then at Eighteen, who stood in the corner lamenting the broken piece of furniture. When she turned back towards Vegeta, the front two legs of the chair thudded to the wood floor. She rolled her eyes and slouched in her chair, crossing her arms under her breasts. "Quinceco bak-ba giri'toe?"

The prince then turned to the girl in the chair. A full smile covered his face. The expression seemed out of place on him. He displayed a full set of teeth and an emotion amazingly like joy lit his eyes.

---

If Vegeta knew nothing else, he knew that he would enjoy this. "What I want is for you to answer questions now that there is nowhere to run and no crowds to disappear into. And you will keep your responses in Universal Standard so everyone can understand. Is that clear?"

The woman sitting in front of him gave off the merest hint of a smile as she uncrossed her arms and draped them over the back of the chair. _"You're not my commanding officer. I don't have to listen to you_." How he wished that that weren't true. When the bitch decided to dump her problem off on his planet, she became his problem. He supposed he just needed to make the problem understand that.

"While you're on this planet, I am. And I believe I told you to keep your answers in Universal Standard."

"_I'm still on leave._"

Vegeta's punch landed viciously. The problem grabbed her right side. Her jaw clenched and her muscles strained as she tried not to cry out. He had to admit, she was at least well trained. "What's the matter? Are your ribs still sore?"

Her eyes shifted around the room and landed on Kakarrot. He glanced over to find that the younger man had taken another step closer to him. The problem caught the motion. She let out a low groan. Vegeta returned his attention to the matter at hand and let out a short puff of air through his nostrils.

"Embarrassing Kakarrot, or appealing to his good nature, is not going to get you out of anything this time." Kakarrot backed off when he realized the girl was faking. The woman just let out a shallow sigh and sneered up at him through her bangs. "Good, you understand. Let's start again. Your name is Mar Negi Seloli. That makes your father's name Negi. Who is your mother?" He didn't recognize her father's name and the problem was too strong to have nobody parents so he should be able to recognize her mother.

The girl turned away from him to try her hand at intimidating Eighteen who stared icily back. "My house, my rules. Answer his question."

The saiyan woman did not turn in her chair. "Mar Reta Niku. I have three brothers and a sister as well. Would you like their names?"

"No." Damn it he didn't recognize her mother either. Reta, however, there was a Reta among his father's older generals. He met the man once on his fifth birthday when his father had paraded all of the elites before him so he would know them. He wished he could remember more so as to search for features in the woman's face, but that day remained a blur.

"Why are you here?" This, from Piccolo. The question low voiced, direct and to the point. Vegeta swallowed his annoyance.

The girl looked over at the Namek then purposefully averted her eyes. Eighteen's voice slid over the sharp edge of her temper. "Answer his question."

The girl raised her chin in the direction of the blonde woman. "She brought me here."

Did this girl think them stupid? She fully understood Piccolo's question. Vegeta snapped, "Quit being impertinent. Why are you on the planet?"

"You got me left here." When Vegeta's face darkened and he made a move to grab at her, the girl backed away, the chairs legs screeching across the wood. "The tournament. I saw some footage. It looked fun. Since we were watching the border when my break started, I came here instead of going home. Now I am stuck here and the fights were not even worth the effort."

Behind him, Trunks spoke up. "From where I sat she got at least one good fight out of it."

"Will somebody please tell the ape to keep its mouth shut? A child could have beaten that girl."

"If that's so, why did you go after her?" Trunks snapped as he moved forward to stand next to his father.

The girl's eyes kept shifting from Trunks to himself. She suddenly gave a small snort before her mouth turned down in a sour expression.

"I want to know that too." Kuririn stepped forward a little. He had sweat on his forehead and was pulling at his collar. The girl looked him over again before dismissing him.

"Eighteen doesn't know the move you want and I haven't agreed to anything." The problem's attention snapped back to the short man. Vegeta wondered where Kuririn had gotten that little piece of backbone. The smaller man ruined the effect, however, when he cringed under the woman's stare swallowing audibly. Seloli, in turn, doled out a knowing smile.

"She had something I wanted."

Trunks stepped forward into the woman's space causing her tail fur to bristle as she displayed her teeth. "So you tried to kill her?" She pushed at Trunk's chest. When he failed to move confusion flashed across her face.

She covered it with a soft snort and a sneer as she said, "I don't kill people who have something I want."

Gohan reached out and touched the younger man's shoulder. Trunks threw him off but, with a soft word, Gohan was able to move him back.

Kuririn laughed nervously and twiddled his thumbs in front of him. "I guess I'm lucky…"

"Not at first." That annoying smile that Vegeta was quickly coming to hate crossed her mouth as her gaze roved over both men.

Kakarrot spoke next. "So you're not here to blow up the planet?" Just like Kakarrot to change the topic just as the conversation had become interesting.

"How would I do that?" She watched the other full blooded Saiyan with a neutral expression on her face and questions in her eyes. Her gaze flicked between the two of them. "Wait a minute, you two actually used to purge planets. _Midorichi-zu. You two got to fight **all** the time. No wonder you hit like a Be Dorian battle cruiser. Tell me, was it fun? I bet it was fun. I bet it made your blood just sing. I've asked the really old people before but they just punch you in the face and tell you that it's best not to think about it. And the ones that are your age were really too young to remember. But you two... You two were still purging when you were my age weren't you? You've got to tell me how much fun it was._"

Did she just imply he was old? "No. And speak in Universal Standard." Vegeta cast a sidelong glance at Kakarrot who had actually recoiled in something akin to horror. Good. Maybe he wouldn't interrupt again for a while. The woman in front of him leaned forward, her eyes gleaming during her recitation. Now she sat slouched in her chair with a sneer marring her mouth and her arms crossed over her chest.

"Was your grandfather Reta a general in the Saiyan Army?"

The woman let out a low guttural scream. "Are we really back to that?" When he continued to assess her, she sighed. She pulled herself up in the chair to sit perfectly straight and tightened her tail around her waist as her military training took over. She placed her hands flat on her thighs just before the knee. One foot rested flat on the ground and the other tucked slightly under the chair, raised to the ball, to facilitate a fast stand. Finally, she was beginning to take this seriously. "I do not know. I never met the man."

"Why not?"

"He blew up when the planet did. What does it matter?"

"What planet have you been living on?"

"Kudaka."

"How many Saiyans are there?"

"A couple hundred."

Hundred? A few hundred were not killed and he did not know? "How is it that everyone survived the destruction of Vegeta?"

"How did you?"

"I want a straight answer."

"I do not know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I was not born then. It was never important."

Not important? How could it not be important? They spent five years, after stumbling across Raditz during a basic purge, searching for other possible survivors and this girl considered it not important? The survival of the strongest race in the galaxy, her own birth, his heritage relegated to nothing but an insignificant speck to this second class… _gardak_.

"What are your plans now that you are on Earth?" Vegeta started at Piccolo, who had used his momentary pause to ask another question.

"Learn what I can. Get off this stinking piece of dirt as fast as I can. And go home."

Vegeta knew his eyes widened as he recoiled but he couldn't stop them. "What? That's all?" Where was this woman's spirit? For all her talk of purging making the blood sing was she really just as watered down as Kakarrot?

"Would I live long if I tried anything else?"

No. She wouldn't. She knew he had a higher power level; just not how much so. He smirked down at her not even upset when Kakarrot interrupted again.

"So you haven't killed anyone?"

"That would be like swatting flies; repetitive, easy, and eventually annoying. The people here break too easy. There were some large meat eating animals and those two," she circled her hands towards Gohan and Trunks, "and the girl might be fun but I was trying to keep my power level off your scouters." Ha! As if he needed a scouter.

Eighteen glided through the press of bodies. Stonily, she stated, "Stay away from Marron."

"I was not speaking of her."

Vegeta landed another vicious punch to her ribs delighting in the crunch of snapping bone. He could not believe he was actually thinking of bringing her back to Capsule Corp figuring he could do a better job of keeping an eye on her. He rounded on the married couple and fixed them with a murderous glare. "If that thing leaves your sight for more than five minutes, I want to know about it." That said, he stomped into the rainstorm that continued to bombard the landscape.

The rest of the group followed him out. "Vegeta," Kakarrot almost had to scream over the wind, "What was that all about?"

"She threatened to kill our children."

"She's not strong enough to actually hurt us Vegeta." The prince sneered at the scholar, so soft, so human, so like his moron of a father.

"Would you stake Pan's life on that? They're girls. Neither one of them has broken a second class power level. Only with proper training will they reach first class by the time they're her age." He watched the other man pull back and pale. Good. Perhaps he was actually getting through. He powered up enough to slough the rain off of himself. "Are you coming Trunks?"

Piccolo watched the four Saiyans take off from the dry safety of the porch. He was debating how much he wanted to get wet when the monk slipped out the front door to stand directly next to him.

"How bad is it?"

Piccolo looked down at he diminutive man and noticed his proximity. The monk usually placed himself just outside of reach. The gesture encouraged honesty. "I don't envy the task your wife has signed you up for. If you need help, I'll be there." The monk's mouth tightened as he and Piccolo stood in uneasy companionship before he slipped back into the house. Piccolo watched the rain until it let up, uncomfortable with the new ki signature he had familiarized himself with and which now burned slumberous at the edge of his consciousness.

TBC

Reviews Appreciated


	13. Of Compromises

Disclaimer: This is a piece of fanfiction. Dragonball / Z belong to Akira Toriyama and other associated peoples. No money is made off my endeavor to get this story idea out of my head.

Chapter 13: Of Compromises

Bulma shut down the computer for the evening. Trunks had asked her if she would look over the engine specks to see if he had missed something. She really couldn't find any reason for that engine to have a shimmy. The shimmy annoyed her. She hoped to roll out Trunk's latest vision of air travel with the new line of products in three months. Unless they rooted out the problem soon, it would have to wait another eight months before production. She rubbed her bleary eyes and pushed the hair out of her face.

As she reached to gulp down the remaining bits of cold coffee her eyes fell on the picture of her parents that perched reassuringly on the edge of her desk. "I don't suppose you could tell me what's wrong?" she asked her father. Her father patiently smiled back, Kitty peering inkily out from over his shoulder. He would tell her to get out from behind the schematics and start tinkering.

Plans were only guidelines. To get something to work properly, you had to fine tune it by hand. They had all worked best with tools in their hands anyway. Even Trunks learned his way around the gadgets by taking stuff apart and reassembling it. Or, more likely, having his father blow something up and fixing it before she found out it was broken. Somehow, in the shuffle and the corporate meetings, those simple lessons became lost. She leaned forward and brushed her fingers over the glass. "Thanks, Dad."

With a plan firmly in mind, she hoisted herself out of the office. If they couldn't fine tune it by hand, they would have to tear apart the entire thing and check the manufacturing quality of each part again. As she walked through the halls towards the private quarters she contemplated her fresh manicure. Damn. There was no help for it, she supposed, at least they would grow back.

She reached her private suite and checked the clock on the table in the sitting area, just past eleven. Damn she didn't think that she had stayed up that late. She walked further into the room and glanced at the large bed that dominated the chamber, pristinely dressed in the highest thread-count sheets and maroon and green duvet. A little too pristine, neither a wrinkle nor rumple to be seen. No evidence at all that her husband had used the room at all.

He hadn't slept in their bed for the last two nights. She slumped onto the edge of the mattress and blankly stared at the walls. Maybe he didn't find her attractive anymore. No, he could not have made love to her the way he had last week then suddenly think her ugly. Besides, she still possessed a body most younger girls would kill for. Whatever was going on had to end. She couldn't do this much longer, not if she began to doubt herself. She placed her hands on her hips and studied the room waiting for a clue as to Vegeta's whereabouts to magically appear when she felt the tell-tale hum that indicated activation of the gravity capsule. Walking over to the monitor, she pressed the button that activated the closed circuit communication system.

The sight of Trunks on the screen instead of her husband caught her off guard. Trunks rarely trained anymore, and never this late. She watched him move around the room in a blur of gold. From the look on his face, he was pushing himself harder than he had in a long while. She switched off the sound and watched for a moment. Despite all she had seen, she had never been allowed up close and therefore had never noticed how serious and cruel the fighting could be. He screamed silently as he hurled himself into the path of his own ki blast only to reflect it away at the last moment. Clothes shredded and blood-stains appeared on his skin in less than a minute. Not wanting to disturb him, she turned off the circuit before he noticed.

She still had a predicament, where was Vegeta? She strode from the room determined to find out where he hid himself, suddenly needing to know that he was whole. The quiet hallway offered no indication. She eased up to the old guest room he used and pushed open the door. Nope, not there. She checked a few of the other rooms as well as down in his office. She wished she still had that old scouter. It would make things simpler. She had given up and was back up to her room when she noticed Bra's door lay ajar. She peeked through the opening to check on her daughter.

Vegeta sat in the arm chair in the corner of the room with his arms crossed over his chest. Apparently, he had fallen asleep there. She didn't understand how anyone could be comfortable in that position. The nightlight plugged into the wall illuminated half of his face. She felt a surge of envy at the youth in his features followed quickly by a surge of pride in the calm on them. Living here, with her, had done that for him. She let out a loud sigh and pushed the door the rest of the way. Vegeta's eyes shot open as they had for as long as she had known him, moving from full sleep to full wakefulness in an instant at the slightest noise. It usually unnerved her. Tonight was no exception. She stepped into the room where he could see her in the shadows cast by the night lamp. "Vegeta, come to bed."

His eyes bored into hers for a moment and she had the recurring feeling that he could read her thoughts. He seemed to find nothing of interest in them and his attention turned back to their daughter sleeping peacefully. "I've been neglecting her training," he whispered.

Bulma was taken aback. "I thought that we agreed that you wouldn't unless she showed an active interest."

"She can't even defend herself against a basic attack. She should at least know that much."

"You only say that because you didn't have to talk to her teacher after Jack Pierce tried to kiss her."

Vegeta's attention snapped back to her. "Some boy tried to kiss her? They're twelve."

"Yes, and she knocked him out cold. For three days."

"Exactly why she needs to be trained. She needs to learn better control."

Bra whimpered and rolled over in her bed. "Let's continue this conversation in our room." Vegeta looked at Bra for a moment. He placed his hand gently on Bra's shoulder before standing up and following her out of the room. As soon as the door clicked shut Bulma rounded on Vegeta. "Why the sudden interest in training her?"

"I told you. She can't even defend herself. The only reason she can fly is because Trunks and Goten thought it would be amusing to teach her."

"And she hasn't shown any other inclination towards learning how to fight. And we agreed that if she didn't, you wouldn't force it on her. So why the sudden interest? She's just a girl, Vegeta."

Vegeta's mouth tightened. "So is that thing at Kuririn and Eighteen's house. She's perfectly capable of leveling entire planets." Vegeta stormed down the hall and into their suite.

Bulma stood there for a moment, not entirely sure if she had heard right. Vegeta hadn't just compared that woman with her little girl. Surely Bra had not just come up short in his estimation. What the hell was going on?

Bulma followed Vegeta into the room where he was forcefully removing his clothes. "Are our children just not Saiyan enough for you anymore? Is that it? Well, I got news for you, bucko. They're perfectly fine just the way they are and if you don't like it, tough."

"Don't be absurd."

"I'm being absurd? Trunks is killing himself in the gravity room right now. You're suddenly worried about Bra being able to level planets. Would you care to tell me why?"

Vegeta stopped mid motion and looked at her sharply. "Trunks is training? Good."

Bulma felt as if her world was crumbling around her. "Vegeta…"

Vegeta finished undressing, slid under the covers with his back turned, and turned off the light. With a gruff, "Get some sleep," he let her know that his part in the discussion was over.

Bulma fumed in the dark for a moment. How dare he shut her out like that. She tried calling his name, tried to coax something else out of him. She sank onto the edge of the bed and leaned over to touch her fingers to Vegeta's back. He flinched and moved away. Sighing, she removed her hand and stared at the ceiling until sleep finally took her.

The next morning, when Bulma woke up, his half of the mattress was empty; sheets cast aside. She lay in bed looking at the wall until the alarm sounded its fourth warning. She heaved herself out of bed. The world wouldn't wait just because she had a fight with her husband.

Bulma looked up as Trunks entered the kitchen. He appeared awake enough, but the faint redness of his eyes told of how little sleep he had gotten.

"So when did you get to sleep last night?"

"Um… three?"

"You should have slept in."

"I can't. I have a meeting with the engineers. Then we need to do more testing."

"Actually no, you don't. There will be no testing on that engine today. Today, we tinker."

Trunks smiled at her and chuckled softly. "Schematics are only guidelines?"

"Exactly. Besides, your grandfather's only rule was no testing is done without a full nights sleep. Not that he didn't break that rule often, but it still stands. Switch schedules with me today. I'll take care of the engines. You make my appointments.

"I have a meeting with the patent office at eleven which shouldn't take too much brainpower since the patent officer only has half a brain. At one, I'm supposed to accompany your father to Congressman Junta's office. Vegeta will do most of the lobbying there. To be honest, sending you might actually be better. Junta is a sexist pig." Not to mention there was still that minor issue that they were still fighting. No she hadn't given up just yet. "There is some minor stuff in between but nothing you couldn't handle. Barb will have my full schedule. In the meantime, go back to bed. I'll wake you in a few hours."

Trunks seemed to mull it over for a bit before looking at her with a militant expression in his eye. "One condition. Be nice to my engineers. They are brilliant people. It's not their fault they're not as brilliant as you."

"Flattery, will get you everywhere."

---

Kuririn stood among the waves crashing around him calf deep in the new surf feeling the fish flit around his ankles. A light fog rolled in off the ocean. He loved the early morning before the guests woke up and began making demands, before the staff came in and started their duties. And lately, before the daily arguments started with their newest resident.

The first argument occurred when the woman realized that she was on an island. Apparently, she was too preoccupied to realize exactly how much water she had crossed to get here. When Seloli announced her intention to forage for food, Eighteen informed her that she would have to do so on the mainland. For the rest of the morning, the girl wore out the porch, staring at the ocean and making the rest of the guests nervous. Eventually, her hunger got the best of her and sent her speeding north. Right over Kame Island and towards Goku, not that she knew that. She returned an hour later, sullen and jumpy, her clothes covered in blood. He thought it best not to ask how they got that way.

She repeated the journey in the afternoon. Upon her return she began asking about her training. When she approached him she made no bones about her actual goal of the Kamehameha wave. When he told her no, she tried to hit him. Eighteen stopped her fist and took her away.

He took a deep breath and released a beam of energy that sent both the ocean and the fog churning. Kuririn sent a second blast rushing out, chasing the other. Water danced everywhere as the second caught up with the first. Kuririn waited for the ocean to smooth back out before cutting another wake. He was pulling in his energy when a green streak flew past him and into the water. The blast created its own wake as it plowed through the air above the water.

A low groan sounded behind him as both blasts disappeared, the second never quite reaching the first. Kuririn spun and fell into the waves. Seloli stood on the beach and watched the ocean for a very long time, the fingers on her out stretched hand closed into a soft fist before she dropped her arm to her side. Kuririn watched the skin under her lip stretch as she ran her tongue along the inside. She then turned her attention to him, sprawled in the surf, her eyes regarding him intently. He hastily righted himself and slapped at his sides to remove the excess sand. Seloli made a huffing noise in the back of her throat.

"Eighteen told me to get you on my way out. One of the other people is having a problem." She further muttered something in that guttural language he didn't understand, and wasn't sure he wanted to, then took off over the ocean towards the mainland. The full force of her con trail pelted down on him as she zoomed passed him on her way to the mainland. In response, he allowed his knees to bend and his body to twist, thereby keeping his feet.

---

Yamcha looked at the door not fifteen feet in front of him. He'd feel a lot less antsy about knocking on it if he wasn't so sure certain death awaited on the other end.

He dragged his feet across the sidewalk trying to gather courage as he approached. Delivering good news should not scare him. Five feet from the door a hand clapped him on the shoulder causing Yamcha to turn sharply to see the familiar lavender hair of his best friend's son. He look back even further to see the scowling form of Vegeta clad in a… was that a suit?

Trunks looked closely at Yamcha. "You're sweating. Something happened to the car?"

Yamcha looked up sharply. "No. No. I just need to talk to your mom." Now that he said it he felt better, no backing out.

Trunks shrugged and led the way inside. "Come on in. She's probably on the assembly floor. I'll get her for you." He set Yamcha down at the kitchen table and strolled into the bowels of the complex leaving him there with an amused Vegeta.

Yamcha found it odd how he knew Vegeta was amused since his facial expression never changed. Vegeta simply leaned against the doorframe as he removed the tie around his neck. They stared at each other for ages before footsteps echoed through the hall behind them. Vegeta straightened up and wrapped the tie around his hand. "She'll want to throw you a party," he stated simply before turning on a heel and leaving. Yamcha just shook his head while his shoulders shook in silent laughter.

A moment later Bulma came bursting through the doors. "What's wrong? Trunks said you looked like something had died." She stopped in the middle of the kitchen gawking at his laughter which only added volume to his guffaws. "This isn't a joke anymore. What's wrong?"

Yamcha composed himself and stood up. "I'm getting married and I want you to be my best man."

Bulma's face brightened then scrunched. "Congr… Wait a minute, you're getting married? To who? How can you even think about getting married to somebody we haven't even met? How do we even know that she's not marrying you for your money?" Bulma crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Yamcha.

"Her name is Ookami. She's an accountant. You met her son at Marron's party."

"An accountant? She's not after your money then. She'll take one look at your finances and run in the other direction."

"She's seen them."

"Then I wouldn't let this one go."

"I won't."

Bulma sank into a chair. "When will we get to meet her? Before the wedding I hope. We should throw you an engagement party."

Yamch couldn't help himself as he double over in laughter. Bulma found it less than amusing. "Something Vegeta said," he said by way of explanation. Afterward they ended up talking and formulating a plan.

As he stood up to leave, Bulma gave him a hug. "I'm honored to be your Best WOMAN."

After Yamcha left for home, Bulma sat back down in the chair. She was happy for Yamcha, really. Somehow, though, she felt as if she had just lost him, stupid she knew. She broke up with him, married Vegeta. She didn't want him. So why was she jealous of a woman she never met? Yamcha stayed single, her friend. Deep down, part of her fancied that he still carried a torch for her, stayed single for her.

As tears trekked across her face, Vegeta sat down next to her, held her until they subsided in silent understanding of her loss. He felt the same way when Kakarrot chose to remain dead.

TBC

AN: Beta Kudos again go to the lovely and talented Bardockgurl who now insists that I work Bardock into this fic. Thank you for reading. And remember I like reviews as much as you do.


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